This book is enthralling and reveals so many influential aspects surrounding woman's suffrage, birth control, women's equality, etc. that went into the creation of Wonder Woman. Women going from WW2-era Rosie the Riveter to trapped in the feminine sphere of hearth, home, and babies again was frustrating to read but necessary to understand for the 1970s women's lib movement.
This book is a captivating odyssey into the origin story of Wonder Woman from the complicated professor of psychology (and creator of the lie detector test), who was supportive of a women's lib in the 1920s through 1940s during the Hollywood Hays Code era (even a woman president depicted in Wonder Woman comics), and inclusive of the women that inspired her: Maraget Sanger (suffuragist badass), Olive Byrne (literary wit), and Elizabeth Holloway (lauded academic).
I can't say enough good things about this book! And I can't wait to read Jill Lepore's other works.
This book is more a clinical look at scam psychology with cautionary tales, so the tone is a little drier than expected in the first third of the book, but the individual scam stories make it an interesting read. Amazing how the same scams we have now existed centuries ago, (i.e., invest now and get 10x back, fund a prince in a distant land, etc.) and people are ashamed to admit they were scammed so new marks are unawares. There's a little more information about scammers and victims involved in the Made You Look Netflix doc, but it's just a part of case studies illustrating behaviors of people who may realize they have were scammed but retreat further into the delusion as they refuse to admit they've become victims. Overall, an interesting read for the scam-curious.
“More was never the answer. The answer, it turned out, was always less... When everything is working together it's a lot easier to find inner peace, appreciation, and gratitude for all you have. “
Yes! Words I'll try and live up to going into and low-buy (mindful-buy?) 2020 and my annual Kondo-ing closet blitz.
Contains spoilers
Like Lord Oberon and Lady Titania; he lets her have her wins as long as it amuses him, and she will let him have his wins when it suits her. This entire book had such an overall great pace, and the interspersed flashbacks and nested flash-forwards kept me on my toes. Addie's present and past were seemingly happening at the same time as she slipped back into mostly forgotten memories and was inevitably yanked forward into the present. Addie just lived long enough to see herself become the villain in the best of ways and I am so here for it! I live for stories that don't mind playing with anti-heroes or heroes who live in a gray area just beyond morality. If Addie returns, I'll be happy to see her brand of mischief and merrymaking again.
Day's bubbly personality really carries this book at a great pace. Between all the fan stories and creative struggles, it's refreshing to learn how she overcame her own mental health challenges in such a tough entertainment industry and continued to encourage positivity and champion mental health. Love Felicia Day, love this book.
Where The Handmaid's Tale reads as a nuanced, almost-meditative dystopian tableau, Vox is a shinkansen barreling through character background and world-building at break-neck speeds. No time is wasted with establishing who Dr. Jean McClellan is and what's at stake—all future womankind's ability to achieve self-actualization. Exciting and satisfying read!
Okay, that ending was a little lackluster. I'm going to need a prequel book just about the amazing Su Yi! And the Eddie situation was a little too easily resolved. This book needed to be longer to properly wrap up some of these interesting storylines. The aunties also seemed easily pacified. Fun book! I just want more.
I spent this entire book railing against Oona's every decision, but each time I reminded myself she was literally just acting her age. Each jump could be years or decades in the past or future, but what a unique experience to learn about Oona's life while Oona is learning about it too. What a ride! My only regrets are: I wish the book were longer, and I wish there was a sequel about Madeline's life as she dealt with Oona's timey-wimey condition.
This book felt like it was three or four short stories rolled into one binding. Suze and Rebecca's friendship faded in and out of focus, but the other spinning plates fractured the flow. Enjoyable book but not as fun as the first few books in the series.
This book is required reading for anyone who has an interest in understanding the class, gender, and race-fuelled 2016 American presidential election or just in understanding poor white America.
Riveting and thorough, this book doesn't pull any punches and includes Jefferson's stance on nature versus nurture, opportunist populist presidential campaigns exploiting the poor working class, glorification of poor white America in the media through figures like Dolly Parton and Honey Boo Boo, and the list goes on. Incredible how political history repeats itself.
The fables I wandered through were lush and beautifully written, but Zachary was an empty vessel without anything except curiosity driving him, so everything around him including pacing crumbles. Zachary didn't seem to risk anything or grow in any way, and when I actually felt closer to getting to know Zachary I was interrupted by another story about another set of (sometimes) nameless characters that signified nothing and killed pacing. For as much as this book is lauded, I was laughably underwhelmed and disappointed. That said, I actually liked the last few chapters and afterword, especially everything involving the bees. The few surprises left for the end felt contrived and left me cold, since I had no emotional ties to Zachary. Unfortunately, this book was overwritten and and should've just ended sooner.
Better than Book 5, barely. Not as meandering but still unfocused. These subsequent books fail to have the momentum of Book 1 and spend chapters doing absolutely nothing for me.
Three-fourths of a book is a long time to wander endless hallways and avoid creepers in dark corners without any concrete answers or direction. I felt resigned to be a disengaged voyeur as Piranesi made his rounds every chapter. There's a vague build-up in tension the few times The Other mentions 16, but that tension eases for an uncomfortably long stretches time. Piranesi's aimlessness made me stir-crazy for something more to happen. I came to this book because of its comparisons to Circe by Madeline Miller but that's an unfair comparison. Piranesi is its own bottomless can of worms—atmospheric, moody, mysterious—everything is in shadow and an exploration. I may read this one again to pick up on key clues in early chapters, but I didn't love this book as I expected.
First few chapters were a fun ride, the second half was a be-woke-or-else guilt trip. I wasn't familiar with the author prior to reading this book, so I just didn't know what I was in for.
Entertaining in the beginning but also full of hermit history, meditative thoughts, and the philosophical aspects of going back to nature. Instead, of asking why leave society, a hermit asks why stay.
Solid installment in the series but several storylines, which ran through most of the book, felt unresolved by the last few pages.
I'm a push-over for American revolutionary War epics, but I didn't appreciate the choppy ending in this one. Still, some big character moments happened in this one so overall a solid addition to the series.
Lynn Kurland writes solid, likable heroes and heroines – Persephone and Montgomery were no exception. Pippa is a grounded, down-on-her luck theater costumer with dreams of entering the world of haute couture. She could have made it to England without ghostly interference, so I'm confused as to why Kurland had to involve an apparition from a previous book.
After Pippa seeks to give her career a bump in England at her sister, Tess', medieval shindig, she and her other sister, Cinderella, stumble into a time gate. The location of the gate could have been better; I could see a bunch of people stumbling into another time as they walk across the main castle bridge.
Cindi should have been the main antagonist. She could have continued to cause more glorious trouble for Pippa in the past by allying herself with Montgomery's angry cousins, and then plunged forward in time to be the source of more mischief.
Cinderella's end was still satisfying, and the pacing in the second half of the book quickened as Pippa and Montgomery spent more time together. Even though Montgomery should have had just as much to do as lord of a keep as James McCleod did in A Dance Through Time, Kurland's “okay” books are still ten times better than most books in this genre.
The beautiful language eased into a misty dark world of intrigue and magic. The Circus itself could be so many things from fantasy to love letter to nightmare. The pacing of the book was a little frustrating, since the first third did so much world-building with Celia and Marco. Then, new characters are introduced that tore me away from the story I cared about the most. The stringent rules of The Circus felt a little derailed by Tsukiko's abilities, but everything folds into each other more or less in the end.
This one seemed a little disjointed and introduced a lot of new story elements late in the book. The style and language are lovely but I won't be continuing with the series.
Endearing, exciting, and everything in between. I honestly didn't expect to love this book so much, but high production value and sweet characters drew me in. Highly recommend this one to any robot sci-fi fan!
The movie was soooo much better than the book. To be fair, the book and movie are 2 completely different stories. Andy in the movie has more heart, although Alex is less likeable. Unbelievable but the book does not resonate as well as the movie. The book seems disjointed and the characters unpolished. Read if you're curious, otherwise hard pass.
This book is runs the gamut from activist battle-cry, to inspirational, to tear-jerker. The Notorious RGB is truly a badass and we're lucky to have her.
A little taste of post-apocalyptic during the Black Plague in jolly Olde England–that's the core driver of Doomsday.
Kivrin was a likeable enough character who has her whole gung-ho academic perception of turned on its head when she's popped back on assignment to the Middle Ages. She's capable takes all challenges in stride, but there's only so much she could do in the face of disease.
In light of Brexit this year, there was some interesting tidbits about the English xenophobia interwoven into the book.
My favorite character and arguably the most beautifully written character in the book was Father Roche. He never ceased to be practical and human in the face of pestilence. His reasoning and poetic leanings balanced out the cast in the Middle Ages and painted a picture of how much a leader of small parish meant to people of that era.
I could have done without so much of the annoying American bell-ringers, but solidly good time-travel sci-fi overall.
❤