Laith

As I write this I've finished Player of Games, and I can say that this book has done its job of setting up what I expect are the core philosophical questions of the series, but I don't feel as though enough attention was given to the narrative of this specific entry. Characters feel flat, motivations are written out and grappled with but there's no catharsis, I didn't come away feeling as though I understood what the point was.

This is my introduction to The Culture, a far in the future symbiosis of human and intelligent machine, an ever expanding post-scarcity anarchist utopian society. I enjoyed this book, it's a fast paced pan-galactic heist that does a good job of introducing its larger world. I felt like I was reading a sci-fi adaptation of The Mummy. Our main character is a “changer” shapeshifter on a mission from his alien overlords, he gets his ass kicked six ways from Sunday as he and his makeshift crew galivant disastrously across temples and desolate ruins. No one safe, nothing is sacred, and the author isn't afraid to build up a trope just to yank the rug out from under us.

I came away positive on the series, but this book is a freshman effort; The female characters might as well be cardboard cut-outs and the rest of the cast has zero agency which is weird since the MC doesn't start running the show until nearly the half-way point. At certain points in the story MC himself appears to be railroaded into the narrative, and for all the political philosophy and high minded rhetoric of the warring factions, the character's motivations aren't explored in a meaningful way.

Wow what an enjoyable and straightforward read. We are on book 8 out of 10 here, the first book in the final third chunk of the Culture and Iain Banks' writing has noticeably matured and improved. This is probably the first book since Use of Weapons to feature a compelling main plotline, and it famously features the best worldbuilding in the entire series. A wide reaching but thematically tight romp through some of the Culture's most interesting settings, I think this is one of the best books in the series and an excellent starting point for anyone curious about the series but unwilling to read through the whole thing.

A Brief Precis to the Culture:

The Culture is a far in the future anarcho-utopian space faring civilization run by altruistic and smarmy sentient AI Minds. In their quest to do good, the Culture makes contact with space-faring but comparatively primitive civilizations and does its best to break down existing hierarchies and build up democracies. While it sounds a lot like American hegemony and imperialist meddling, the Culture promises it isn't, and they can statistically prove it.

Meat & Potatoes:

I would describe Matter as a palace intrigue and family reunion story that just so happens to take place on the Death Star; conveniently the story is arranged in halves. The first half of the book is very GOT/HoD with most of the action taking place on ground level in your standard pre industrial society. All I will say towards the second half of the book is that the scope of the novel widens about as far as imagination allows.

We meet our main characters: Furbin the new crown prince, his manservant Holse, Djal his sister who lives off world, and their youngest brother Oramen. I don't want to give anything away so I will only say that each of these characters gets fleshed out a fair bit. Not all of them go through complete arcs but Furbin goes from as my notes say, “a dreadfully stupid and bumbling cunt,” to something resembling a competent adult. As far as what I found enjoyable in the book the story is very much the brussel sprouts of a larger meal; that's not to say it is bad, it's actually very good compared to some of the other stories in the series, it's just overshadowed by the rest of the metaphorical plate.

As to the quality of the writing, this book picks up after Look to Windward and while being stylistically different still hit a high note with me. Dialogue is crisp and engaging, and as previously alluded to, the world building and imagery is the best its ever been. Where with LoW we got to see a lot of the day-to-day of the Culture homeworlds, this book gives us a sweeping glance at the multitude of other civilizations and structures that populate the galaxy.

Shellworlds:

For a big series with big ideas, the Culture novels never truly painted its worlds with the same brush and scope as it has its space-ier settings. Often the stories of the Culture are set onboard everyone's favorite smartass ships, Culture orbital habitats, or on far-flung and primitive worlds. Matter finally brings that scale and grandeur to ground level, introducing the latest (Eons Old) development in megastructure engineering, the Shellworlds. The second half of this book is basically all about them, and the story is literally put on pause so that we the reader may marvel in their splendor.

Can you say layers? Shellworlds for the uninitiated are planets of nested concentric spheres, each sphere forming a level of the planet and an entire world layer of its own. This is the matryoshka doll of planetary mega structures, built by a long extinct civilization for an unknown purpose, with only half of them surviving to the present. Each layer is now home to entirely unique and specialized biomes for the races and civilizations that live on their respective layer. Shellworlds are hierarchically organized, with more primitive species and civilizations living on the inner layers and their more advanced “mentor” civilizations occupying the outermost layers and controlling the interior infrastructure.

Themes (Minor Spoilers Ahead):

It's not on accident that the arrangement of civilizational hierarchy on the Shellworld mirrors the greater galactic state of affairs. This book is uncharacteristically direct as it presents its theme and primary philosophical questions in the form of a neatly packaged microcosm: what is the point of all this? This book is harrowingly nihilistic, it presents us with a galaxy's worth of civilizational achievement only to ask us why it all exists or even if it truly exists at all, are we anything more than a simulation? This is not the first time that Banks' has presented us this question, a kind of reverse of Turtles All the Way Down, instead of looking down and questioning what the foundation of the universe rests on it asks instead who is it that is looking down from the very top.

As more of the plot is revealed it becomes increasingly clear that despite the high technological level and achievement the galactic hegemons possess, they are truly no better than the more primitive civilizations under their care when it comes to things like war and purpose. Instead of waging war themselves they stage elaborate casus beli for subordinate species to wage war, all for the purpose of their own excitement and entertainment. Drones record the action in the countless primitive worlds, and in turn even smaller means of observation watch on; layers of exploitation and observation all the way to the top, but who watches the watchers?

We never really find out because Banks' doesn't end his stories the way we'd like him to, to put all the scary questions in a tidy box and wrap it in the ribbon of human understanding. I think he understands better than most writers that A. shit happens and B. we rarely ever understand why. Some would call the ending a big weakness of the book for that same reason, but personally I've read enough of these stories to understand that asking the question alone is often the best we're going to get.

And here I was worried that January would open with 3 duds. Not the case. Not the case at all. What I got is one of the best fantasy novels I've ever read. Night's Master is a unique blending of different traditional mythos, a little Abrahamic religion, a dash of Greek gods, and for added spice it's written in the style of Arabian Nights. It's high fantasy and weird, it's also progressive as fuck for 1978; I loved it.This book is a lot of firsts. This is the first book in the Flat Earth series, it is also my first Tanith Lee novel. Oh, and I almost forgot: this is my first 5-Star read of 2024 (meaning it's also the first book I have bought in physical print this year).Well, shucks, I guess I spoiled the review. Just pretend I didn't say anything.Night's Master is high fantasy, it's about as high as fantasy can get if you ask me. I've only read one other series that comes close to taking such a lofty approach to its story telling, and that's [b:The Shadow of the Torturer 60211 The Shadow of the Torturer (The Book of the New Sun, #1) Gene Wolfe https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1329650008l/60211.SX50.jpg 762497], which I'll come back to later. This is the first book in a sequence of stories that chronicle the Flat Earth, a mystical time when the Earth was flat and sandwiched between the demonic under-earth and the mysteriously silent heavens. This entry follows the master of the under-earth, the prince of demons, Azhrarn. What Night's Master is, is a series of interwoven stories that connect in some way to the deeds/misdeeds of Azhrarn. This book is NOT a protagonist-centered narrative. What we get is the mythology of an entirely imagined world, something similar to the Homeric Hymns and the Epics of the Epic Cycle. It's more accurate to say that those themes are mixed into the delivery of Arabian Nights, with each story leading into the next across the ages. This is written in a style similar to the epics, not really in terms of morality or density and inscrutability, but rather it captures the episodic and dreamy vibe of stories of the oral tradition. You could easily imagine the contents of this book being read out by a bard or crier to the illiterate inhabitants of some nameless tavern. It's Lore, and it's good Lore. I mentioned Gene Wolfe's Book of the New Sun earlier. I don't want this whole review to be compare and contrast between these works, but Wolfe is the only other person who writes like this. BTNS is a reimagining of the (far future) worlds' mythos in the style of the Testaments. It's wacky and weird, but also ingenious and anachronistic to a time that does not exist. Wolfe's work is a bit of a Christ allegory, and the prose carries a lot of that trademark biblical density. Those characteristics mean the narrative adopts a more traditional story structure to offset just how alien its prose and story beats can be. But we're talking about Night's Master here, right? Well, this book is similar to Gene Wolfe's work, it assumes the character and style of Arabian Nights and old fairy tales and curates a careful mix of uncaring gods and vicious demons playing the games of Greek tragedy upon humanity. This book is taking the grandeur and imagery that Greek and Christian myths have, and it weaves this flowing tale that borrows from those tropes and stories but without any of the moralism, none of the preaching. I really dug Night's Master, this book has politics that I agree with and prose that's 5/5 for depth and clarity. I actually preferred this to TBNS because of how fantastic the prose was. Not to leave it at that-I understood this book cover to cover on my first read, it seems to me that Lee went for clarity in prose given the winding nature of the narrative, and that's never been the case for Wolfe's work. I've to say that if this is just how Lee writes, I need to read more Lee.This book is nearly 50 years old, so I won't say much more. If you're interested, but I haven't sold you, feel free to check out some other reviews by much better critics (I think you'll end up adding this to your TBR). If you are a fan of Romantasy/faerie courts books, I would highly recommend this, especially if your main draw to those books is the lore and world building.

This was the book club pick for September, and this is yet another off-my-radar pick. I found some moments in this book extremely engaging but I did not like the overall structure or the mosiac/pastiche style of storytelling. This is a book that is not constrained in any way by its choice of genre and is absolutely one of the most unique SF books I've read so far. This is also a book that lacks a plot and is more of a coming-of-age type of story.

China Mountain Zhang, Zhang or Rafael for short, is the name of the main character, and as explained in the book it's like being named “George Washington Jefferson” or “Joseph Stalin Lenin” just in a Chinese context. Zhang is a gay man working as a construction tech in New York City, he lives with an ex-boyfriend who is his only real friend. The twist is that the US has had a socialist revolution and China is the dominant world power, which means being Chinese is an advantage, and being gay will get you sent to the labor camp. We follow Zhang as he leaves his job as a construction tech to work in the Arctic Circle in hopes of earning a position in a China-based engineering college. This story takes us all over this world, from the frozen north to mainland China to Mars to Coney Island.

Can you believe this got a Hugo nod? I do, this is the book equivalent of Oscar bait. Let's run the checklist while keeping in mind this was published in 1992: This book features a non-standard narrative structure, this book features a gay main character, this book embraces multiculturalism despite the Chinese-dominated world it's set in, and the book has some keen/plausible technological extrapolation. It was so far ahead of its time, and hindsight really helps to highlight this as a predictor of the trends to come in SF.

All that said, it doesn't mean that this is a good read. Whatever virtues made it unique and fresh in 1992 have basically all been adopted in some way by modern storytellers. In 2023 it reads dated, it's like the author focused so much on making their book different from standard SF fare that they forgot to include a plot. Reading this reminded me of eating cookie dough, it's sweet and digestible but I would have preferred it fully baked. The book is extremely dreamlike, with hints and nudges concerning the larger world but never outright explaining it in full detail. This is definitely a personal journey for Zhang but it felt like he didn't really get a complete character arc. This feeling I have is probably being amplified by the change in perspective every other chapter.

I usually like it when the point of a story is a little understated, but there is a difference between burying the lede and never getting to the point. CMZ is guilty of the latter, there is never a moment in the book where Zhang confronts the world around him. The fate of his boyfriend in China and his first lecture are the closest this book ever gets to commenting on the world it has imagined for us. The problem is that those moments are also pulling double duty; They are supposed to be cathartic moments but they are also ironically the moments where the book introduces the concept it is commenting on. This book DOES make social commentary, it's just in the details and not loud enough.

TL;DR: This is Oscar bait in book form. There's a point to this book but good luck finding it.

The book in one quote:
“What?” the angel cried. “will you have no thought for your immortal soul?”“Oh, fuck off,” Chay said.

I had to give this book a few days to let its impression settle in my mind, and I didn't want to let Culture fatigue color my opinion on the book. For anyone that's not counting, this is book 9 of 10 and we are fast approaching the finish line on this series. As the second of the “newly released” (this millennia) Culture novels, I think I am starting to see a pattern or commonality in these releases: this book, like Matter, is of immense quality but is retreading some of the themes previously discussed in the series. Surface Detail is all about death and the after life, and for my money has one of the most interesting premises in the whole series with a virtual war between the multitudinous heavens and hells of the greater galactic community being the centerpiece conflict. Parallel to the main course, Banks has a feast of philosophical themes and ethical questions on offer that are sure to be ringing around your noggin for a good long while. I found this book to be very similar to Excession in its sprawling scope and multiple plotlines, and similar-to-but-not-to-the-same-degree as Excession my chief complaint is that the book can feel disjointed at times, and it can be difficult to keep track of all the different characters and settings.

The story follows a variety of characters in different parts of the galaxy, each of whom is grappling with the idea of the afterlife and the role that virtual reality can play in it. Banks' vivid imagination is on display prominently, from the diverse array of cultures and technologies to the virtual hells that some societies create to torture their dead. The political and social structures of the universe are complex and nuanced, and the different factions well developed. The text is rich in fuel for an ethics debate on the purpose of hell and what its existence says about the nature of god, or in the case of the story, the societies who have created their own. I keenly noticed the influence of Salman Rushdie in Banks' previous works especially whenever he tacks towards religion as a subject-and this book is no exception. The conflict between the two factions in the afterlife is essentially a debate about what is the best way to handle the afterlife and how justice is defined.

The central plotline concerning Lededje and Veppers is what pulls the whole book forward and it is as compelling as it is thought provoking. The relationship between the two characters and their place in the larger narrative concerning the war for the afterlife is rich with metaphor and raises my favorite moral/ethical concern of the book. Veppers our token megalomaniacal interplanetary tycoon escapes the punishment that trope and convention demands. Separate from Banks' love of subverting trope, this situation serves to illustrate the need for a hell (a detail not observed otherwise by the plot) as some people are just too powerful or well connected for them to ever face the music in their own lifetime (unless you happen to be besties with a top-of-the-fucking-line abominator class death machine cum spaceship). Hell serves as the place where Veppers and people like him would ostensibly face justice for their transgressions in the real, but as the novel takes great care to illustrate, hell is an evil torturous place that no “good” person could be operating without being morally compromised.

Out of all of the Culture stories so far, this felt to me to be the least “Culture” of them all. Not only does this book have little to do with the Culture from a narrative/plotting standpoint but the themes being discussed don't have the same taint of “this is what the Culture does/believes so it's obviously correct,” that's the signature of the series. As I read on I couldn't help but feel like this story would have faired better as its own series comprising two or three separate books. I don't mean to complain about the excessive number of plotlines/characters/subplots because I never got lost in the story the same way I did with Excession, and more importantly they all connected at the end rather miraculously. That said, as a standalone Culture entry there are issues with the pacing and if I had been proofing this, my suggestion would have been to give the plot room to run as its own series. The series wouldn't even have to be entirely outside the Culture universe, the small nod to Use of Weapons and the venerable Zakalwe at the end could have, like in Inversions, only hinted at the larger context of the series.

TL;DR: This book can be complex, meandering, and dense at times but is very compelling and thought provoking. The imaginative premise and quality of the writing is top notch. I would say this one was for the fans and that it may not be the easiest read for the general public.

I'm having a blast with Tanith Lee so far, I loved Night's Master and this book was more of that Flat Earth goodness. I was very curious to see how the series would continue on from such a non-standard first entry, would this book turn away from the decentralized story telling style of the first, or would this book build on the mythos with more interwoven fairy tales. The answer is a little of both: This book DOES have a main character, and we follow ONE story the whole way through. Likewise, this one story is a Matryoshka doll with diverting, detailed, and interwoven backstory provided for the entire cast. The further we get into the main story, the more of these secondary stories get woven in. Some people liken this to a long form epic poem, I can see that, personally I got the feeling that I was reading a novelized tapestry (but hey usually those tapestries are of the epic variety). Where Night's Master was titled after Azhrarn, Death's Master similarly is titled after Uhlume, the Lord of Death, another of the Lords of Darkness. Uhlume's presence is much more subdued and looming as compared to that of Azhrarn, he's this silent, morose and ever-present force in the story. The novel concerns a fated pair, Simmu and Zhirem, two characters who in some way meddle in the forces of life and death. There are many of the same story beats as Night's Master; boons with gods and demons, themes of love and betrayal, and more of that sort of stuff. I will note that Azhrarn also features in this book, I'm guessing he will in all of them, because he's the drama (he's kind of the malicious engine that drives the story).I found it nice to see Lee changing up the formula a touch for this second entry in the series. Most readers will appreciate the character focused narrative, this is a much more conventional story as compared to Book 1. Personally, the conventional format was a bit of a let-down, one of the things I dug most about Night's Master was just how unique that style of storytelling was in the Adult fantasy landscape. This book is also fantastic, but I felt the story dragging when it switched threads or delivered backstory late into the book. I think the key difference here is that the interwoven story was distracting from a larger narrative, whereas in NM the story was free to jump around. Pacing is definitely my chief complaint here, this book was twice as long as NM, and I was really feeling the increased page count whenever the story shifted gears later into the book. “Damn, this is really from the 80s?” That's a question I couldn't stop asking myself as I read this. I didn't note this explicitly for the first novel, but so far both entries have had some gay sex right off the rip, and the functional main character of this novel is gender-fluid. Gender and sex play into the story in a big and nonjudgmental way. In the 80s! And these books were popular! It's mind-blowing to me just how “modern” the sensibilities of these books are, and I love that I can get some vintage 80s fantasy without any of the cringe worthy chauvinism or poorly conceived romantic plots. I think of this series' contemporaries, series like [b:Dragons of Autumn Twilight 259836 Dragons of Autumn Twilight (Dragonlance Chronicles, #1) Margaret Weis https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1390668127l/259836.SY75.jpg 251833] and [b:The Sword of Shannara 15575 The Sword of Shannara (The Original Shannara Trilogy, #1) Terry Brooks https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1470063017l/15575.SY75.jpg 877015] that, while fantastic in their own ways, are bland and silent when it comes to such a popular contemporary subject. Obviously, not every book has to have an inclusive cast of characters or even LGBTQ themes (I will even chide authors who include those themes in a publishing/tick the boxes kind of way), but this book is the perfect example of how, when, and why to include those themes in a fantasy story; this book is just that much more interesting because of it. TL;DR: A more conventional fantasy story compared to book 1; a modern-vintage type of read.

I am such a fan of this series, and it's 7 books deep - anyone else that wants to read this book is probably in the same shoes. If you've got this on your radar/tbr just go ahead and read it.

This picks up right after Network Effect. I mean RIGHT AFTER Network Effect. It took me a second to orient myself, and I think anyone that read Fugitive Telemetry during the gap in publishing should probably scan over a recap before jumping in.

This is probably the most “inward” the narrative has gotten so far, as Murderbot deals with the aftermath of redacted events in the last novel. Bot has added a fresh helping of trauma to their already traumatic existence-that's it, that's all i'm going to say about the plot of this novel.

Murderbot is changing, both the character and the series as a whole. Prior to NE the series had been a collection of action-packed survival-based romps across the corporation rim, but in these last few releases the focus of the narrative has shifted inwards. I thought NE was a touchstone for the series; it ushered in the next phase of the story now that Murderbot has so many human friends that it has to classify them by group. It seems to me that Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs also must apply to bot-human constructs because now that ‘Bot's physiological and safety needs have been met the story is moving its focus further up the pyramid.

I've always been a fan of the human exploration elements of this series, and I am really happy with the direction that Martha Wells is taking this project. That isn't to say I want less dry wit and explosive action scenes, it's just that the most interesting aspects of Murderbot the character are the things that it doesn't want to talk about. Watching this character change as the series progresses is gratifying, and I wager that further entries in this series are going to expand on the exploration of the “human” aspects of Murderbot's physiology and psychology.

TL;DR: Another solid entry in the series, progressing the narrative in all the ways you want it to. Minus 1 star for a confusing beginning.

Happy New Year, everyone! I just stumbled on this year in review entry, and it is a neat little feature, isn't it? 2023 has been something of a reading renaissance for me, but this all really started in 2022. That was the first year in my adult life without any need to study/cram or work long hours, and I realized that I needed a “productive” alternative to my phone. I rode the momentum of that decision along with a string of some really excellent books ([b:Hyperion 77566 Hyperion (Hyperion Cantos, #1) Dan Simmons https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1405546838l/77566.SY75.jpg 1383900], [b:Blindsight 48484 Blindsight (Firefall, #1) Peter Watts https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1386924412l/48484.SX50.jpg 47428], and [b:The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet 22733729 The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet (Wayfarers, #1) Becky Chambers https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1405532474l/22733729.SY75.jpg 42270825] to name a few) and decided that in 2023 I would have three main reading goals:1. I would read a minimum of 30 minutes every day. (326 Days in a row according to kindle)2. I would try to read as many books as I could. (92 Books read!)3. I would try to review everything I read. (this got added later)I stuck to my genres (SF/Fantasy) but I made sure to cleanse the palate with whatever sounded interesting/ whatever literary references went over my head. I wanted a baseline for just how much I could read in a year without pushing myself; turns out you can read a ton when you don't have casebooks and social media competing for your time. Once I started the Urth of the New Sun series I realized that I couldn't keep it all straight without taking notes, and once you have notes you're basically obligated to post a review.It's been a great reading year for me, and I intend to keep up with this habit I've formed. My goals for 2024 are a little different, I'd actually like to read with a little more moderation (I may have spent more time with the books than I did with my girlfriend), I'd like to finish the Dandelion Dynasty, and I would like to read more books outside my genres/wheelhouse (maybe a little more non-fiction and literature).With all that said I read a ton this year so let me highlight some stuff!Favorites Series for the year:I was big into series this year, I read Urth of the New Sun, The Culture, Bobiverse, Murderbot, The First Law, The Dandelion Dynasty, Monk and Robot, Alex Stern, and the Sarantine Mosaic.I had a blast reading all of these series and I have nothing but praise for all of them, you seriously can't go wrong picking up any one of these. That makes it super tough to pick my series of the year, since almost all of these books left such a strong impression on me. I mean, seriously, it's kind of like picking which cut of Wagyu was most delicious!When in doubt, I turn to the roots, and what I was most excited about (and most diligent with) had to be the Culture Series by Ian M. Banks. I was absolutely consumed by this series, it was like “oh wow, I can't believe this has existed all this time, and I am literally the last person to hear about it.” I didn't love every book, but it's 10 whole books, there's bound to be a miss or two. What's really impressive is that each book could very easily be the start of their own series, each book is wholly unique and PACKED with ideas and content. I wish I could read more Culture. RIP BIG BANKS.Author of the Year:I only read two of his books this year, but I love them both. I will be reading more Philip K. Dick in 2024. His authorial style agrees with me in a way that no one else I read this year quite managed to match. Obviously, I am a little late to the party and I know that marking him as my favorite for the year is a little bit like saying Citizen Kane or On the Waterfront is my favorite movie. But I can't help it, Ubik was amazing and A Scanner Darkly really agreed with me!If I have to pick someone a little more contemporary, I am giving the nod to Becky Chambers. I first read her in 2022, but with each additional book of hers that I read, my appreciation of her style and ideas only grows. I absolutely loved Monk & Robot, I fully intend on grabbing a box set for this series once it's complete. M&R aside, there is more Wayfarers on the horizon for me. Count me as a fan.Top 5 Books for the Year:1. [b:The Library at Mount Char 26892110 The Library at Mount Char Scott Hawkins https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1453225113l/26892110.SY75.jpg 42797715]2. [b:Use of Weapons 12007 Use of Weapons (Culture, #3) Iain M. Banks https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1587400756l/12007.SX50.jpg 1494156]3. [b:A Scanner Darkly 14817 A Scanner Darkly Philip K. Dick https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1388737865l/14817.SY75.jpg 1527439]4. [b:Bad Brains 341941 Bad Brains Kathe Koja https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1297032583l/341941.SY75.jpg 2038474]5. [b:Cosmos 55030 Cosmos Carl Sagan https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1388620656l/55030.SX50.jpg 3237312]This list is in order, but maybe it shouldn't be. I read so many excellent books this year, so this isn't a quality metric, but rather I'm ranking these books by how much I liked them and just how much of their ideas/imagery/plot managed to make it into my daily thoughts (Love and Staying Power). What makes me rank Char at the top has a lot to do with just how much of a surprise it was, I expected nothing and got something so incredible and unique. Let's not forget to mention that it is an authorial debut for Scott Hawkins, a grand slam the first time up to bat is something that I can't help but take note of. Wish I could unread this:[b:Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality 10016013 Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality Eliezer Yudkowsky https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1659761696l/10016013.SY75.jpg 14911331]You can read my review of this fanfic, but I don't know why I didn't put this down. Chalk it up to morbid curiosity. My problem with this book had a lot to do with the weakness of the writing, and not necessarily with the premise or plot.

Oooh this book had a pretty controversial debut didn't it, the reviews kinda look a little like Fallujah circa. 2004. Having read the book, I can't say I am surprised, this was a tough read to get through. This is one of those books where different people will find different sections to be intolerable, but suffice to say the subject is heavy. Personally, I found myself hating this book early on, but the further I got into it the more the project as a whole started to make sense. I really enjoyed this book by the end, but having perused the reviews I can see that there is some truth to the negative reactions.

This is a book about the publishing process first and foremost; it also directly deals with the issues of plagiarism and race. This book centers on June Hayward, a struggling white author who happens to be present when her more successful friend and colleague Athena Liu chokes and dies in an accident. June winds up stealing Athena's manuscript about Chinese laborers in the First World War. After some serious revision, June publishes The Last Front under the nom de plume of Juniper Song to immediate critical acclaim. But the good times don't last, people begin to notice the similarities between her work and Athena's, debates around race and cultural appropriation dominate the narrative around her book and ultimately accusations of plagiarism are hurled June's way.

All it really took for me to read this were the keywords “R.F. Kuang” and “Unreliable Narrator”, I'm just a mark for books like this. I think that this might be one of the best First Person Present-tense stories that I've gotten to read. This is a tough style to pull off, but god-damn if Babel wasn't a fluke, THIS LADY CAN WRITE. This is even more impressive to me because the character of June isn't really a self insert for Kuang, but her character was incredibly complete and well-defined. All I can say towards the writing quality in this book is that it's masterful, this is a prestige, a magic-trick that I completely bought into.

Despite the abundant quality, the first third of this book was incredibly difficult for me to read, I just kept finding myself getting irrationally upset with the text and with the character of June. The feeling of abject revulsion I felt with every action June took to cover up her crime, with every justification she presented for her actions and mentality, was honestly too much. I found that I had to break this read up into little chunks to bleed off the anger and focus on the text, but this was tough. If you also hate “everyday racism” and plagiarism, this will probably also get under your skin. That said, I'm glad I powered through because it all pays off in a very Cronenberg-Lets watch this car crash in slo-mo type of way.

I think that even if you took away the narrative elements and stripped this down to an essay concerning race/POC in the publishing industry, it would still be a strong, poignant, and valuable read. Valuable is the key word here, I never expected to read the industry equivalent of a naval broadside: Kuang hits every single issue, every single side, and I can respect the message that much more for its indiscriminate truth. I hate that non-white authors get pigeonholed into writing “diverse works” almost as much as I hate that white authors get flak for telling stories outside their cultural lanes, and it seems like I'm in Kuang's boat here.

There was one criticism that I read in the warzon- I mean the review section- that I agree with in spades. RFK's voice bleeds through the veneer of June; there is a pretty clear distinction between character and author that's established fairly early on, but the more the book dives into the pressure of publishing and the (frankly disgusting) racial aspect ascribed to historical/cultural works, the more I felt RFK's voice take control of the narrative. That's not all bad, her voice has quite a lot to say on the subject, and I'm glad that the whole “They already have an Asian Writer. They can't put out two minority stories in the same season,” discussion concerning the broken diversity elevator made it into the book. And her voice goes a long way to rehabilitating June's character, adding a healthy dose of nuance after an opening that toes the line between social discourse and reverse race baiting. But even with these clear benefits, blurring the line between June and Rebecca makes digesting this content a little messy, on some level it's all the author's words but what are we to ascribe to RFk's life experience and what is pure fiction. If I can boil my issue down, it would be that it would have been so much more impressive if June was just June and RFK found a different, less central character to deliver her opinion.

Closing thoughts: This is a really good book, it's got some flaws, and maybe the ending is a touch bleak for something that was already pretty heavy. I think as a total package this has some literary importance, and even if the content isn't to everyone's liking RFK is saying something that everyone should hear. It blows me away that people read this thing and then still published all of these trash reviews as if to prove RFK right.

This was a pleasant surprise, I think I was expecting something a little more self-serious but what I got instead was nicely digestible satire.

The plot is simple: Enter Charlie, a laid-off journalist turned substitute teacher whose life has gone off the rails. His wife left him, his dad died and so has his estranged billionaire uncle Jake. Reduced to squatting in his father's home while the estate settles Charlie receives quite the windfall when his uncle's last request winds up making him the inheritor of his uncle's enterprise. His uncle the parking lot mogul turns out to have had a much more diverse portfolio than expected; not mentioned in his obituary are the volcano lair, talking dolphins, and spy cats.

Yeah, this is a pretty silly premise but it sets up a nice fish-out-of-water commentary on post-covid society. Personally, I prefer my satire a little more subtle and biting but this is fine, turns out that the “villains” of this story are billionaire nepo-babies with a Blofeld affectation (who would have guessed). This whole story is really just a setup for a series of punch lines, the largest one being a villain convention attended by aspirant tech-bros and finance-douche-alphas.

I think if I were a cat person I'd have loved this, but I'm not. There are some really funny bits either way; I absolutely loved my comrade dolphins (Fuck Northwestern!), and the idea that every villain's master plan amounted to starting a subscription service definitely earned itself a spit-take.

EDIT: I completely forgot to mention that the audiobook is a Wil Wheaton narration! It's an excellent choice of narrator for such a funny story, and you can tell audibly just how much fun he is having with the material. I listened to the first half of this book and I think he does an excellent job. I definitely recommend the audiobook for this one.

TL;DR: A light and funny read, nothing too serious. Talking animals, space lasers, general bond-villain silliness.

The Fourth Wing is spicy fantasy, I'm not sure how high it ranks within that crowd of books (mainly because I don't usually read spicy fantasy) but it was a good read, I liked it. The premise is a crowd-pleaser, who doesn't love dragons! And the school/academy setting puts it among the rest of the heavy hitters. I enjoyed the characters and their growth, I found the dialogue charming and contemporary, if a little out of place. It's no wonder this book is topping the charts right now.

This was a book club pick so I just dove right in, the buzz about the internet was that this was the start of a great new fantasy series so I figured it'd be in my wheelhouse. I will give credit where it's due, as a fantasy story this book has an incredibly strong opening and introduction into its world. The imagery and illustration of the magic were also top-notch! This is a story about a college where new adults are transformed into dragon riders, and getting to go along for that first ride was exhilarating (Really the high point of the book for me). There's definitely a world to explore around here, and I found myself getting impatient to explore it. It was about halfway through that I realized that while this is a fantasy book, it is a romance novel first.

I did know that I was diving into something a little explicit here, but I didn't realize that the second half of the book would transform into a full-on romance. This being the first romance I've read in a while, it took me a while to catch on to the quirks of the genre. The romance is worth reading, I liked our characters and I liked how the romantic plot played out (Team Xaden for sure). I also have to say that I liked the language choice when it came to the explicit portions, I hate it when authors get too artsy or too clinical with their smut, this is how it should be done. If I had one note as far as the romantic plot was concerned it was that the main love interest seemed incapable of saying the wrong thing. I swear that guy had a line for everything, and from the brief glimpse into his perspective, it seemed like he was incredibly self-aware. There is such a thing as too perfect of a guy, and he's toeing the line.

There is a reason that I don't really gravitate to this genre, and it's primarily because of its overreliance on tropes. I think that when your story is focused on the intimate details of its characters it tends to paint the plot in broad and predictable strokes. I enjoyed the romance, a nice and steamy enemies-to-lovers romp, vanilla but not too vanilla, right in the pocket. I did not enjoy having my access to Dragons shut off just so the horny 20-somethings can get it on, especially when it's a little bit of a slow-burn romance that takes up the next 200 pages. (I totally agree that this could have used 50% less horniness and about 50% more dragons and world-building). When the big reveals happen they fall a little flat; if the author gives me half a book's worth of time to ponder the story I am going to figure it out before they want me to. I think I knew how this book would end around the halfway point, (once they get the map) and this book is totally guilty of putting its story on pause while the romance develops.

A final note: Please tell me I am not the only person who kept thinking of the slut dragons episode of Rick & Morty. I hate to bring the show up because of the negative connotation the fan base has rightfully engendered but this book is eerily close to that premise. I guess when you mix sex, soul bonding, and dragons you are already playing in the same ballpark. This book was ruined just a touch for me once I made this observation, and the episode kept ringing around my head. I would not be surprised to see some version of the soul-orgy phoenix dragon make its appearance at some point later on in the series.

TL;DR: Slut Dragons. This is a perfect book for someone, but that someone isn't me. A fairly standard dragon-focused fantasy with some excellent romance smashed at the end of it.

Book Club for November. I did not like this book, I thought it was boring and slow as molasses. This should have been a Novella.

Humanity wrecks Earth and decides to live on platforms around a moon of Jupiter (or something), we follow Mossa and her ex-girlfriend (whose name I can't remember, and she's kind of the main character) as they try to solve the mystery of a dead or disappeared scholar.

This wants to be Holmes & Watson so fucking bad but it's such a shoddy interpretation. If I don't have a chance at solving the mystery by the halfway point, you've done it wrong. Period. Not that I was even trying to solve it by then because the “sexual tension,” if you can even call it that, is basically what dominates the early portions of this book. The romance subplot was at the border between overdone or underdone; a little more and it would have been compelling, and a little less and this would have been a proper mystery book.

I vividly recall putting this down maybe 20 pages in and thinking, “I bet Mossa wears a silly hat”. Then I glanced at the cover.

The setting was novel if maybe a little blurry on purpose. It's gaslamps and mist, it's on Jupiter, but this is just Baker Street. This book is trying to be cozy, but I didn't find a cold and foggy setting super cozy. The prose was blah, I've been spoiled lately and this read as if a high school student wrote it. Actually, it read like everyone was doing their best to talk like David Attenborough and I mean that in the least flattering way.

The Audiobook wasn't Paul Giamatti that's for sure, Lindsey Dorcus tries her best but it wasn't an enjoyable listen.

TL;DR: Sherlock Holmes but female, on Jupiter, with none of the charm or the fun.

I was a little hesitant to pick this up because I didn't really connect with the first book. I kept thinking about the Dresden Files and how if I was going to read something so similar to it I might as well read some more of that series. But the premise was interesting and Leigh Bardugo really knows how to lead into a sequel. I took a gamble on this one and damn dude, this shit rocks.

Before I jump into this sequel I want to address a few of the flaws that held Ninth House back for me. I guess I didn't like Alex's nature in the first book, I'm all for a flawed main character but she just kind of face-rolled the scenario while complaining the whole way through. She came off as overly slick and unreliable. I wasn't buying it and I don't care how tragic her back story was. That disconnect lowered the sense of stakes for me, I didn't like Alex and I didn't especially care about what happened to her.

I want to highlight these failings because Hell Bent has totally filled in the gaps for me. This book has one major change from the first; Alex is kind of the badass now. She's a badass now, and I buy it somehow. I think that this book starts off strong and does an amazing job filling us in on Alex's summer, and it does a lot to rehabilitate her character for me. It seems like Alex has matured/is maturing into the role of Virgil, and her previous weakness is largely written off as inexperience. But she's a badass ghost bitch now, and Darlington is trapped in hell.

This whole book had a Stranger Things meets Hell Boy meets Dresden Files vibe to it, and that's such an amazing combination of ideas and themes. I think that I have fully accepted that we're playing by the Dresden Files set of rules and I am more than okay with it. I am glad that this series is pulling from the strengths of DF and not its weaknesses; if Alex gets a duster and a wide-brim hat and starts to wax poetic on how old-fashioned she is in the next one I think I will burst a blood vessel. I think that explains a lot of my shift in opinion, this is better than the Dresden Files in all the ways that matter.

(Since you asked, I don't cringe when Alex interacts with the opposite gender, and I don't have to look past how much of a dork she is because she's not a dork.)

Let me stop meandering.

Hell Bent is damn good. I was really impressed by the jump in quality across the board, but hey this series is not in the highly marketable Grishaverse so we had to wait four years. The book is better off for it, Leigh Bardugo continues to evolve as an author, and this book is proof. The choppy pacing is gone, the prose is much improved, and this book really banks on the world-building of the previous entry.

Alex Stern is going to hell, and nothing is going to get in her way. That's the plot and we stick to it this time, no pauses to let us know how Pam is feeling or how fucking cool these 150-year-old arches are. No, we are going to hell, we are getting Darlington and that's what's happening. I really love the plot this time around, it's as simple as it gets but the places it goes are unexpected and interesting. I won't spoil it suffice it to say we get as many answers as we do new questions concerning the nature of Alex's powers and the nature of magic in this universe.

I like that the references this time were more Shakespearean in nature, it's cool to have those English surveys from college count for something. I like that the story occupies the span of a year so the chapter titles aren't as confusing as they were the first go around. The story is still non-linear but not to the obnoxious degree of the first one.

The biggest change between this and Ninth House is the absence of social commentary. We've been there and done that, and now we can get to unofficial Lethe business. I have to say I prefer it this way, the more grounded focus really lets this book piggyback on the gritty charm of the Dresden Files.

The only thing holding this book back is that you need to read Ninth House first. I am looking forward to the next one.

This book is the Coda to TBNS and in finishing it I feel as though I've completed a great labor, and I regret that I did not take the time to write out my thoughts for each volume of Severian's journey because I find it to have mirrored my own in reading through this series. From murky and confused beginnings, down winding steps filled with monster and mystery, to a clearing of understanding and repentance this series has engulfed me in its world.

At the same time I'm glad I waited to comment until I'd reached the story's conclusion as no single part of the series should be judged on its own merits. Even this book, very much separated from the tetralogy, is part of the larger whole and mainly serves to shed light on some of the questions that plagued its contemporary reader.

I can't credit Gene Wolfe's storytelling enough, and in reading Neil Gaiman's, “How to Read Gene Wolfe” I am inclined to agree despite having never met the man, that he is, “a ferocious intellect, vast and cool and serious, who created books and stories that were of genre but never limited by it. An explorer, who set out for uncharted territory and brought back maps, and if he said “Here There Be Dragons,” by God, you knew that was where the dragons were.”

This series, and its individual pieces, are far from perfect and problem free. Parts of the series are, from a modern viewpoint, dogged by conservative thought and generalizations, misogyny and religious zeal. Very much a Christ allegory it was interesting to read from the perspective of a man convinced of God or at least in the message of the Church. Fortunately this series is a case of the whole being greater than the sum of its parts; Wolfe's writing matures as the story goes on, and in so doing adds a layer of congeniality to what could have otherwise been a clumsy retelling of Jesus goes to Nazareth. Mixing science fiction, fantasy, and religion beautifully I can completely understand why this work is considered a masterpiece and a foundational text on the level of LoTR.

Dense, Confusing, Gorgeous.

This was great! Crouch is 2 for 2 when it comes to a gripping premise, and I have to say I am enjoying contemporary SF that includes modern scientific advances instead of re-hashing warp drives and ring worlds. It is a shame then that this book takes a killer premise and kind of goes no-where with it. Maybe it's more accurate to say that it doesn't go anywhere new; this was one of those books with a super strong first half that just fizzles out by the end. Overall, this was a very entertaining and pleasant read, even if I didn't love the direction the latter half took. I bet this will make a fairly gripping Netflix movie/series some day.If you've heard of CRISPR, then you'll be pretty familiar with what's going on here. This story follows Logan, a former geneticist who is walking the path of atonement after he and his mother accidentally cause a global catastrophe. Logan's mother was the world's foremost geneticist, and her major advancements in gene editing technology made it possible to make large-scale changes to any genome. Her scientific advancements are overshadowed by her mistakes and as a result of her actions genetic engineering is highly regulated and a specialized police force called the GPA is established to enforce those regulations. Logan now works for the GPA and while working his latest case he is exposed to a mysterious virus that begins to re-write his DNA. Shenanigans ensue.This book was interesting for more reasons than just the killer premise. This is an SF Thriller, which in my experience so far is a surprisingly uncommon subgenre within SF. The combo really works here, it takes the best parts of both genres and plays to their strengths; the intrigue and “just one more page” elements of a thriller meshes perfectly with the rich lore and philosophical edge of Sci-Fi. It's a unique blend, and it works exceptionally well here, you get the driving and insistent pace of a Thriller and when the story takes a breath or two it comes in the form of philosophical and moral exploration. In practice, this made the latter half of the story really focus on its themes and framing, which is extremely fresh in the context of a Thriller. My issue with this book comes in the form of its antagonist and the false dichotomy that exists between them and the MC. Trying not to spoil anything here, but there is a point in this story when it becomes clear who the ultimate antagonist is and what their plan is. That person has a close relationship to the MC, and their change of heart and their master plan as the antagonist felt rushed/thematically forced. I spent the entire second half of this story thinking two things: “Wow, they couldn't have even tried to talk it over?” and “if they're so smart, how is it possible that they just ran with literally the first thing they thought of.” It speaks to my biggest problem with the book, which is that things are “bad” because the author says they are and not because he's shown them to be so. This is a very personal take, the Author does take their time to rationalize these story choices- I just happen to disagree with them; to me, it all felt extremely elementary.I think I would have more to say about this book if I hadn't read [b:Blood Music 340819 Blood Music Greg Bear https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1388694820l/340819.SY75.jpg 2563510] first. These stories are very similar, they both deal with a man-made disaster of genetic origin. These are both telling a cautionary tale that concerns itself with man's hubris and the function of wisdom in a scientific context. Blood Music is kind of like the weird/wacky older brother of Upgrade, you know the kind? He grows and eats his own mushrooms and collects minerals in his free time, but he also went to MIT? What separates these books for me is the strength of that thematic discourse. Where Blood Music is timeless and to some degree impenetrable, Upgrade came off as simplistic and a little patronizing. The overall message is the same: Genetic manipulation is a Pandora's box, but I felt that Blood Music did a fantastic job of SHOWING that it is, whereas Upgrade spends most of its time TELLING us that it is. Of the two, I would recommend Blood Music every time, but if you can't find a copy, Upgrade is a fine substitute that scratches the same itch.TL;DR: Gene Manipulation focused thriller. Strong start with a weak finish. Cool ideas and easy to read.

I saw that a lot of people were reading this book recently and after reading the fantastic summary I figured I'd jump on the bandwagon. I'm glad I did because this was an engaging read the whole way through; I'm not sure if I would rank it as a modern classic but it's well-written and accessible.

After reading about intelligent spiders and super-advanced AIs for the last few months, it was nice to pull back and read a book with a simple, but incredible premise. One day every person over 22 is inexplicably given a box that contains a string whose length is a representation of that person's lifespan. The Measure simultaneously evokes 2009's The Box and 2011's In Time, but this book is far better than either film in its exploration of humanity and its character writing. The story is delivered as a multi-narrative, and it's the perfect structure to pair with such a premise as you get to see the effects of the strings across a cross-section of well-developed characters.

The writing was a standout feature of this book. Despite the large ensemble, each of the primary narratives has exquisite characterization and truly gripping dialogue; the multitude of stories interweave in the most unexpected ways all the while peppering in gorgeous vignettes and personal stories. The passion of the author is evident in how they connect each interaction and character development to the larger narrative, effectively illustrating their points. There are several intelligent choices as far as story structure and narrative design that impressed me, and the degree to which all the stories connect (even in the smallest ways) is something I wish more authors aspired to achieve.

A core issue I had with the book is its lack of depth in exploring oppression and division. Although some characters are “short-stringers,” their struggle primarily revolves around loss rather than oppression. The author briefly touches on the topic during a support group session in the ‘Fall' section, where Maura questions why they (the short-stringers) have to be the only ones fighting for change when short-stringers already have enough to deal with. However, this message falls flat as most of the following chapters focus more on the characters' romantic relationships rather than exploring the strings' larger effects on the world. Overall, while the book touches on important themes, it could benefit from delving deeper into the experiences of the oppressed characters.

Another issue I had was that the book comes across as preachy and opinionated, an observation that may resonate with some readers. That's not to discount the poignant and heartfelt message, because after all what better, or more appropriate place is there to speak to your truth than in your own novel? I would simply note that the tone can, at times, slip into condescension. As a speculative work, it presents a believable future, but the rhetoric (especially in the early chapters) reflects the current state of the world, and, despite being relatable, tends to evoke derision and exhaustion in me. The book's main message is about how we create unnecessary divisions, but the constant preaching detracts from the complexity and nuance of that message. Although I agree with the author's viewpoints, the allegory and delivery can feel like a purity test at times. It's important to note this flaw, especially given recent instances of book banning. Conservative readers may dismiss this book as “woke fiction” or something equally unfounded.

Thankfully most of the novel is a web of beauty and tragedy that does its best to bridge gaps in ideology with moments of humanity. There is a tapestry of fate that's woven within the narrative, mirroring the string's prominent role in the story. Looking past some of the sloppy messaging, there is a gorgeous and multifaceted collection of stories to get lost in. There are some truly touching moments towards the end of the book that appear like mana for the faithful, a reward for readers that stuck through the Sunday service. Each character's journey evokes a thoughtful pause and in some cases, all but forces the reader to put the book down and think.

Qué será, será
Whatever will be, will be

TL;DR: This that good good. A big beautiful tapestry of a book, that despite being a little on the nose delivers heartfelt moments and leaves you thoughtful and teary-eyed.

My opinion on this book may change, I get the feeling that this book might kick around the ol' noggin for a good while yet. I passed on this book when it was released, the blurb seemed to suggest that video games would be a part of the story but that at its core it was going to be about on-again-off-again nerdy lovers and that didn't really speak to me. Not the case, romance is a big part of this book but the core of it is centered around a tenuous but platonic collaborative relationship. This is yet another book where the blurb has misled me, and I am glad that my friend insisted I read this because it was so far up my alley I've been coughing it up.

Set in 90's Cambridge, MA, and later in LA this book follows Sam and Sadie from the outset of their friendship, through college, and ultimately to the establishment of their game company. The blurb does not mention that this book has a distinctive split focus, some chapters follow Sadie and some follow Sam, but every chapter is focused on their work and extraneous relationships. It also bears noting that while he does not feature prominently at the beginning, the character of Marx (Sam's roommate at Harvard), eventually becomes the third focal point of the narrative and this book is as much about him as it is about Sam and Sadie.

This book had me nostalgia-tripping for the entire first half. I love video games, and I got started on them really young so I have fond memories of almost every game mentioned. Some of the strongest moments in this book are when the characters are simply playing a game and trading controls after a life. There may as well have been a functioning time machine in this book because I was transported every time one of these passages was offered up. Nostalgia plays a big part, and these passages are expertly crafted to evoke that feeling, but there is also the philosophical exploration of the joy of gaming. I loved the reverence with which this book treats the act of play and the intimacy of having a playmate, Zevin really captures the depth of the subject, “To allow yourself to play with another person is no small risk.”

Outside of the game-focused elements, there is a lot to love. This book has a unique narrative structure. I never felt like there was ever one “main character” and as the book goes on the scope of the story expands and begins to include the perspectives and narration of the ancillary characters. This book treats all of its principal cast as equally important and uses them more as lenses by which to explore a larger narrative than it does for 1 to 1 storytelling. There is a strong focus and exploration of relationships and relationship-building, the characters grow over time and as they grow they branch out and bring minor characters into the fore. I loved this style of storytelling because it kept the focus on the games without leaving the interpersonal storylines to stagnate or progress inorganically. The lack of focus does make this book drag just a little between the 30-50% mark, but once you reach the halfway point and the focus becomes their game this book really catches its stride.

I think I would call most of the storytelling in this book organic. This story rides on its own momentum. Every development is directly related to the choices or actions of the principal cast (whichever characters happen to be “principal” in that phase of the story). Of course, this is a story that is in part about a female game designer that was published in 2022 so there are a few milestones that the story had to hit namely: issues of sexism, design credit, workplace harassment, etc. “Gamergate” isn't in the rearview, the games industry is still male-dominated and everything that concerns Sadie's story is based on reality, with most female programmers not having the luxury of being the boss. I felt that the story that was told around this framework was fantastic, unlike the hack-job focus on this issue in reality there is some serious ambiguity and nuance that's added in. Male characters that you start off hating mellow out as the story goes on, but they never truly come around and I found that to be true to life.

I only had one major complaint, and it's a matter of personal taste: This book is trying to tackle way too many social issues and by the end, I felt like I was riding the rollercoaster of evening news melodrama. I can't say anymore because of serious spoilers but there was a distinct moment where I noticed that every plot development was taking the most dramatic turn it could possibly take without breaking the story. I get that it is part of a story's job to deliver drama but I found the first 3/4th of this book to be fantastically grounded and poignant and organic only for the last act to turn into a k drama or a Spanish language soap. It seemed to me that the author was more interested in commenting on social issues than keeping the story tonally consistent. I think that if I hadn't made this observation this book would have immediately lodged itself as one of my favorites. What made it even more of an affront is that the development that I am talking about leads into what I thought was the most beautiful passage in the whole book “Pioneers”.

Overall this is a well-crafted and mature read. Sure, it's about video games at the heart of it all (it was a definitive pro for me, but your experience may vary), but it's also about much much more. I loved the cast of characters, I enjoyed the narrative structure, and I'm realizing I didn't comment on the prose but it's also quite good. There are flaws if you go looking for them, but all in all, this was a good read. Thanks to Sophia for the recommendation!

TL;DR: Two friends make a game and launch their own game studio, while they do that a lot of other shit happens.

Don't you love it when a sequel comes out swinging for the fences? No middle book syndrome, not a single weak chapter, paragraph, or sentence in the whole thing. Before They Are Hanged is everything that I loved from The Blade Itself taken to the next level.

Before They Are Hanged picks up just after the events of Book 1 and wastes no time in catching us up with our protagonists starting with Glokta. Where the last book had many scattered perspectives as our cast was assembled, Before They Are Hanged settles on bouncing between three parties; Glokta in the South, West and Threetree's gang in the North, and our main party of Logen, Ferro, Jezal, and Bayaz in the west.

I don't want to get too specific on plot; each party is accomplishing a unique task and their stories are largely independent. Logen has joined Bayaz on his quest into the Old Empire seeking a forbidden power. West is fighting the Union's war in the North against King Bethod. Most interesting of all, Glokta is now the superior of Dagoska and tasked with rooting out corruption while organizing the city's defenses in advance of a war with the Gurkish. All your favorites from the last book are finally in a position to begin their adventures and boy is it entertaining. As I mentioned with the last book, there isn't anything exceedingly unique as far as the premise goes, what The Fist Law series is really about is injecting nuance and cynicism into traditional tropes. So despite the trite premise, the plot proves to be exceedingly engaging.

As far as the theme goes this book is consistent with The Blade Itself, we've got a focus on the harsh realities of war and violence right at the forefront of it all. There is a persistent thread concerning the settling of scores, of reaping what you've sown, those concepts being echoed between the different storylines in both their narratives and in the prose itself. I think it's needless to say that Joe Abercrombie is a master of character writing and dialogue, but I will say that as a consequence of reading this series a lot of the recall I associate with traditional fantasy has been overwritten with old logan ninefingers and his motley crew. There are catchphrases, I totally forgot to mention that last review; personally I liked them, They fit in great and these books tend to be hilarious when appropriate.

More than anything I think I love the vibe of this series the most. It really benefits from the classic setting and story; it's dark and atmospheric and not always but now and again the story slips into a nostalgic almost a tabletop campaign-y vibe. I think I can safely say that I am hooked and I'll probably read the next series in this larger world/universe. I also can't believe that there hasn't been an adaptation of this yet!? The dialogue is so good that it sometimes feels like I am reading a screenplay for an hour of premier television. We've all wanted more Game of Throne-ish content, here's something that's arguably better!

Time travel is a tough premise to pull off but this book takes that challenge on and slams one out of the park. I love me a closed loop time travel story, a story where the mechanics are much less important than the story being told. Rather intelligently this story incorporates the mechanics of time travel into its narrative, ultimately there is a satisfying accounting of events. The settings/times are each described in vivid detail, I really enjoyed the opening chapters especially the chapters that have us in 1900s Canada.

I didn't know this when I chose to read it, but this is very much a pandemic book and gave me the same melancholic catharsis I got from don't look up. I think that everyone dealt with lockdown in their own way, and I always get something out of reading or listening to someone process it. I empathized with Olives' story, and unlike don't look up, her ending really managed to bring out a smile.

I can't believe this didn't win Goodread's Fantasy Award for 2022 because I absolutely loved this book. I have to be upfront and say that I can't be objective about it, there's too much overlap with my life, I have my own Robyn, I'm bilingual and I work in a linguistic/translators capacity so this slid right in the pocket. Whether or not any of that is true for you, do yourself a favor and add it to your list; if you've had it on your shelf, make it your next read.

Set at Oxford during the leadup to the First Opium War (1830s/1840s), Babel: An Arcane History is a mashup of Fantasy and Historical fiction, a well-thought-out combo of Harry Potter and The Professor and the Madman. This is a book where magic silverwork has supplanted steam as the engine of the First Industrial Revolution, engraved silver serves as a medium to capture the meanings lost in translation. The translators of this universe are its sorcerers supreme, our main character Robin, and his cohort of multicultural fledgling translators are the next generation to unlock this power.

Babel: An Arcane History is a book with two faces, the characters of this story are indeed the miraculous chosen few, but they are also products of the horrors of colonialism, assets to their masters. Robin is uprooted from Canton and adopted by Professor Lovell; in exchange for his deliverance from poverty, he is strictly raised to exercise his language skills in the interest of the British crown. Robin is one of many children taken to England, once he grows up to attend Oxford (Read: Hogwarts) he meets Ramy, Victoire, and Letty (the only white European member of their cohort) a group of children from across the empire raised similarly to him. Almost immediately they are excluded by their privileged peers and come together as a group of their own. We join them as they choose between living lives in “naive, ignorant, luxury,” as tools of their oppressors, or risking their safety to resist the oppressive system.

The pointedly anti-colonialist message is mirrored by the efforts and attention directed at the majesty of language and the depth of its historical accuracy. Kuang elaborates beautifully on this period of history, it should come as no surprise but she really knows her stuff about this time period. It was difficult to tell where the worldbuilding ended and the historical facts began in some cases, and the in-universe footnotes took the immersive feelings I was having to the next level. There is also an expert's level of depth and understanding of language in this book, R.F. Kuang is a linguist in her own right and that's clearly on display. Whether it's a treatise and theory or simple fun facts (Did you know “very sad” in French is triste comme un repas sans fromage? sad like a meal without cheese) she's an in-universe expert too; it's refreshing to read about a magical world from a well-considered perspective.

At this point in my reviews, I try to list at least one flaw but for this novel, I only have a few observations and notes: Robin and his dormmate Ramy are both implied to be gay and attracted to each other. Since the story is told from the perspective of Robin, once we get to Oxford most of his attention is focused on his half-brother and Ramy. The rest of the main cohort is female, they barely register on Robins' radar and the novel suffers for it. In stories with similar setups, the romance between characters is the narrative vehicle for their backstory. The lack of romantic ties between our male and female characters kills off the de facto method of characterization for Letty and Victoire (at least early on). I can't believe I'm saying this but this story needed a much stronger love triangle!

Letty in particular gets poor treatment, very little of her character came across- she was little more than a well-meaning white friend. Letty is tragic in a sense, she experiences her own form of exclusion as she is a woman at Oxford in the 1830s and the campus is not hospitable to women. She's also excluded within her own cohort- she doesn't share in their differences and cannot accommodate their worldview. Given Letty's ultimate betrayal of the group, this token attribute of her character can make it seem like Kuang is painting with a broad brush. Given the importance of colonialism to the story, a lot of the depictions of the characters and their treatment within the story have some racial charge. Letty's betrayal seemed to be a critique of the complicity of all the white people who had a chance to stand against injustice but chose instead to sit aside or worse still, aid the forces of oppression for personal gain. I expected to see Letty transformed by her experience, but that subversion of expectation helped to amplify the central message of the story. I'm not sure how much of this interpretation is the conscious choice of the author or a byproduct of the narrative's structure.

TL;DR: Loved the crap out of it, definitely a must-read.

I think that one of the most challenging claims to make in the modern day is to say that you aren't a fan of Marvel. Whether you're a boardroom executive or a Somali pirate everyone knows who Captain America is, what color the Hulk is, and which aisle of the hardware store Thor is liable to beeline towards. Ever since 2008's Iron Man, Marvel has dominated the box office, and their IP has transitioned from something niche and misunderstood to one of the central pillars of modern pop culture.

All of the Marvels is exactly what it says on the tin. In this book, we are taken from the early cape comics of the 1950s and early 60s to the modern crossover-event-driven era. After a thorough and disclaimer-ridden introduction, Douglas Wolk takes us character-by-character and event-by-event in a looping survey of the most beloved and relevant stories from within the canon. All of the Marvels tries to give the reader all the background required (and then some) to appreciate the nuances and allegory that are packed into the very best storylines and anthologies. I knew that Marvel was a self-referential body of work, but All of the Marvels opened my eyes to the depth with which the artists and writers have imbued their comics.

All of the Marvels is a great guide for new comic readers and gives an overview of major Marvel universe events. That said, it's too meandering and unorganized to get a gold star for readability. There is a lengthy (and much appreciated) introduction that aims to explain the objective and structure of the book but purposely omits a reading order. The body of the work mainly jumps between the popular Marvel characters and in each section tries its best to explain their individual stories chronologically. The appendix is a decade-by-decade encapsulation of the general trends of each Marvel era. As a casual fan, I found myself getting lost during the scenic tour of the Marvels. It would have been helpful if the appendix had been provided as a roadmap from the beginning.

Personally, I continue to find my interest in Marvel waning; I've read through some comics but I'm with the majority in saying that I primarily interact with the IP through their films. Maybe it's because I've aged out of the golden demographic and the movies aren't made for me anymore, or maybe my perception of declining quality is accurate. I hoped this book would rekindle my interest in Marvel or point me toward something better suited to my tastes. While my hopes were let down on that front, reading through Marvel at such a distant remove does highlight how the corpus has changed over the years and how I am just one of the latest set of fans to find the earth changing beneath my feet.

TL;DR: This book delivers on its promises to bridge something like 60 or 70 years of storylines across a single book. It does a passable job of filling modern readers in on the unappetizing bulk of Marvel's back catalog. It's also short! I didn't realize at the time of purchase but this book is actually 50% index.

Inversions begins with an introduction to Iain Banks where the claim was that he came to “controversial public notice” with this book. I was curious, and well yep, I get it, The Wasp Factory is macabre and gruesome. I wasn't sure if I hated or loved this book until I got to the very end, and I am glad I made it the entire way. This novel is brilliantly self aware, and the violence (gruesome and excessive) that made this book controversial is ultimately the lingua franca by which this book discusses trauma and identity. This book knows it is ridiculous and the gruesome violence is couched in humor, (Iain Bank clearly revels in the absurdity and horror) but for all the absurdity it is very much a controlled burn.

This is a story of a self obsessed 16(17?) year old homicidal maniac living his days quietly torturing the animals of the Scottish Island that he and his father have made their home. Frank kills animals in odd rituals and false wars as he operates his grand death machine, the Wasp Factory, a mechanism that Frank uses as his metaphysical guide. Along the way we learn about the factory, the relatives Frank murdered in his childhood, and the disability that consumes Frank's life. Frank's eldest brother, institutionalized after setting the town's dogs on fire, escapes, and makes his way home down the Scottish coast leaving behind a trail of ashes and half eaten remains.

My approach to this novel was largely blind and I think any potential reader should stop here and pick the book up because it is worth reading. If you enjoyed Choke by Chuck Palahniuk I think this will be right up your alley.

As I have read through Banks' work I have consistently picked up on his inability to write a female character, and generally the way his stories tend to shove the ladies into the background. This consistent loose thread in his writing made the ending of this novel a monster of a surprise to me. Frank turns out to be Frances, born a girl and experimented on by their father after a severe genital mauling by the family dog. Banks loves his platitudes and his Freud and I disappointedly noted the dogma present in the subtext, alongside Frank's patent hatred of women (attributed to his mother's abandonment). It seemed to me that the book was taking any chance it got to take shots at women, and alongside the essentially all-male cast I was starting to draw conclusions from this first work about why women seemed absent and muted in the world of The Culture.But wow that ending. I loved Frank's closing thoughts concerning the trajectory of his life, the Freudian reading of penis envy and the realization of his replacement of sex with violence; his all too clear and simple exaggeration of "Man as Death" and his violent tendencies as an expression of masculine identity. The absence of women in this novel serves only to highlight these character deficiencies, their exclusion becomes a central plot element. The contrast between egalitarian ideals concerning gender and Frank's excoriation of women only made the ending all the more absurd. In a way everything becomes a moot point, Frank's plight upending the foundations of all the (now shown to be ridiculous) notions they once had.

This was a powerful and moving book. I didn't think that I would find Michelle's story so relatable given my non-Korean heritage and my still-kicking parents; I was caught by surprise with every nostalgic jolt I got each time she'd recall wandering through aisles of foreign food, having people search her face for traces of her heritage, or being resentful of the language barrier (and for not paying more attention in language school). I had no trouble placing myself in her shoes and my reward was a depth of experience and a richness of emotion that I don't often get in the types of books I typically read. As I move forward this will be my gold standard for memoirs, the bar that all others will be measured against.

There is so much stuff in just 256 pages to unpack: there's growing up in the US as an immigrant, finding an identity, and questioning your parents, there's the death of her mother and her mournful journey, and there's her love of music and art and its place her life. What resonated the most for me were the questions of identity. As a son of immigrants, I could really relate to a childhood full of foreign sounds and smells, and tastes; I also remember the looks of relatives and new acquaintances as they searched me for clues of heritage and race. The tales of a rebellious youth that by American standards wasn't very rebellious at all reminded me of my own search for agency and meaning, and how difficult it was for my parents to relate. Michelle Zauner does an incredible job explaining the pressure to be Korean that invaded all facets of her life and identity, the struggle of growing up separated from the society and social mores that her parents adhered to (and in turn now expect her to adhere to) for so much of their lives.

More than anything else this book made me want to hug my mom and spend a weekend eating meals that I desperately need to learn to make. Her connection to her mother through food absolutely rang true for me, and I imagine it rings true for everyone. Her connection to her culture through food was another element that I found myself nodding along in agreement to, what's a Korean without Kimchi and Banchan or an Arab without Hummus and a million little salads. I couldn't help thinking that I am just the same, most of my cultural memory is food related and all my highlights from trips to the motherland are wrapped up in memories of delicious things. This book will if nothing else get you to try a few Korean recipes, some of the meals she describes made my mouth water as I imagined along with her.

TL;DR: It will make you sad and it will make you hungry. Hug your mom and eat her cooking as much as you can while you still can. When the day comes that you can't do those things anymore, the best thing for it, is to make that food for yourself.

I liked The Martian in both book and movie form and as a follow-up, this book was better in almost every way. I was locked in the entire time; first-person narratives are probably the most fascinating things you can read, and when it's done right it's basically crack.

I can't think of a single thing I didn't like about this book. I like that we aren't frontloaded with context and story, instead, it throws us right into the action alongside our lovable amnesiac middle-school teacher-cum-astronaut. What unfolds is arguably one of the best portrayals of science in science fiction as well as one of my all-time favorite first-contact interactions. I actually did very little research coming in, so when this turned out to be a first contact story I did take a big nerdy breath; to then have it be so good was incredibly rewarding.

I will give the science element one additional note, I am not sure how scientifically sound all of that stuff was (I'm not a subject matter expert) but it helped to set this story apart from some of the “harder” SF novels, and it's a tremendous shoutout to teachers everywhere (I'd reckon half the book is teacher shoutouts)

It was a smart choice to give the narrator the amnesia, with story altering context being introduced in real-time. Having the backstory delivered in this way helped to break up the pacing and keep us in suspense without wasting the reader's time. There was a lot of time and attention given to keeping the story moving without bogging us down in the science and backstory, still managing to deliver that information while keeping it consistent and grounded.

If I had one complaint it would be the ending but only because I felt such a desperate story deserved an equally happy ending. I really was hoping that Grace would make it back home but what we got wasn't far off, and despite the overly optimistic portrayal given to the Eridians I found the interactions between Grace and Rocky to be heartwarming, and their impact on the story to be logically consistent. The amount of altruism required for everything to go the way it went was astonishing, and that hopeful message was enough for me.

This is a seriously good read.