More excitement, adventure, character growth, and complex issues--war, economic exploitation, interspecies relations, family, and meaning. Far more thMore excitement, adventure, character growth, and complex issues--war, economic exploitation, interspecies relations, family, and meaning. Far more than a simple space adventure. Gripping and satisfying....more
Another satisfying chapter in this ongoing story. This one is more transitional than some of the chapters, laying groundwork for the development of a Another satisfying chapter in this ongoing story. This one is more transitional than some of the chapters, laying groundwork for the development of a number of plots and character arcs. The scope of this work keeps getting more impressive, and I remain just as hooked as ever....more
Another contemplative exploration into meaning and purpose with Monk & Robot. This one drifted a bit too much into philosophy-stitched-together-with-aAnother contemplative exploration into meaning and purpose with Monk & Robot. This one drifted a bit too much into philosophy-stitched-together-with-a-plot territory, overbalancing the philosophical-characters-having-experiences element; it was more a thought experiment than a story. Nevertheless, it was quite enjoyable and I look forward to reading the next one....more
A steampunk-tinted adventure that is a skillfully written adaptation of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein for today's young readers. It's not an update, preA steampunk-tinted adventure that is a skillfully written adaptation of Mary Shelley's Frankenstein for today's young readers. It's not an update, precisely, more an homage.
The setting is Bern, Switzerland in 1939, surrounded by Europe descending into war. Frances is the daughter of two famous, award-winning scientists, continuing a family tradition that Frances plans to sustain. And when they once again leave her behind during their travels, she does. She accidentally becomes a bit of a mad scientist, building on the work of her parents and her great-grandfather to create life. But then her monster must be contained, and her misadventures truly begin.
Despite drawing from source material, this is an original story full of surprises, delightfully told. It's captivating fun....more
I'm not giving this a rating since I only read the first half.
I've read some of Alan Moore's comics over the years and liked some, loved others, so I I'm not giving this a rating since I only read the first half.
I've read some of Alan Moore's comics over the years and liked some, loved others, so I thought I'd try his prose. In a nutshell, I find he has great ideas and tells really good stories, but uses far too many words.
He almost always uses the rarest, biggest word possible when a simpler, more common one will do. His descriptions are too long, and not needed as often as not. And he tries to cram far too much into each story he is telling. He's an impressive writer doing his best to convey impressive thoughts as specifically and precisely as possible, but he needs to let some of it go and focus on the essence more than the details. I was finally too fatigued to carry on.
Of the five stories I finished, I especially enjoyed "Hypothetical Lizard" and "Location, Location, Location," the former heartbreakingly tragic and the latter hilarious (with excellent theology thrown in)....more
To steal from School Library Journal's review: "A page-turning space adventure that deals with complex issues." That says it quite well. There's excitTo steal from School Library Journal's review: "A page-turning space adventure that deals with complex issues." That says it quite well. There's excitement, danger, interesting characters, and engaging drama all set in a galaxy at war over limited resources, exploitation, and inter-species xenophobia. But, really, the best thing to say might be: "A young teen sneaks aboard the ship of a motley crew of space pirates to escape hostile aliens, only to get caught up in their escapades." It's good stuff....more
What a perfectly sinister, unsettling little book. Well, not so much a "little book," more a little amount of unease. A mildly sinister and unsettlingWhat a perfectly sinister, unsettling little book. Well, not so much a "little book," more a little amount of unease. A mildly sinister and unsettling book--in the best possible way. It is subtle. A tickle. Something not quite right gnawing at the edges, never openly stated, never resolved. Ambiguous and open to interpretation, with no interpretation feeling like a good one.
This is a fictional memoir set in a fictional though familiar world, ours with an alternate history the last century or so. Something like World War I happened, then grew and spread to literally involve every part of the world, lasting for decades, destroying much of civilization and eliminating much of the world's population. That period of history has become known as the Great Reckoning, and a new world order has emerged from it, a united global government and civilization. The protagonist narrator grew up during the Great Reckoning, then played a minor though pivitol role in the New Society that was created after.
The story that Miriam tells is a quiet one even as gradually, ever so subtly, it becomes a disquieting one. Hints and cracks that something may not be quite right. Much of the tension develops in the interplay between her manuscript and the commentary of the (fictional) editors who have published it. In a short introduction, afterword, and footnotes, they discuss how many of the claims she makes are outrageous and cannot be verified as factual (or they provide "historical" context). They claim she is an unreliable narrator. Yet readers begin to wonder if it's she who is unreliable or the editors--and, by extension, the controlling narrative of this world's leaders and population.
A footnote, for instance:
*The Repopulation Initiative was purely voluntary for the first sixteen years of its existence. This was less a deliberate choice and more a result of ongoing debate about the level of compensation participants should be entitled to. A small but vocal contingent argued that it was unfair to offer less to those donating sperm than to those donating bodies. While this argument was never in danger of succeeding, its proponents did manage to block successive votes on the issue--which was resolved only when two of the men concerned were discovered to have been embezzling funds from the committee. Their dismissal left the group with too small a minority to have any sway.
It seems like a nice little bit of color added for world building, insignificant details to make this history seem more real. Except. If the Repopulation Initiative was voluntary 70 years ago, that means it hasn't been since. So this ideal New Society has mandatory repopulation? What does that mean? What does that look like? Is that an okay thing? None of it is ever addressed or answered. It's just a hint that maybe the "reliable authorities" calling this memoirist a crackpot maybe shouldn't be trusted. A crack in their veneer. Is this the sad story of a life gone wrong, a notable figure who slipped into paranoia and infamy? Or is it the story of a tragic hero trying and failing to stop a dangerous machine too big to control? It's left ambiguous, up to readers to decide.
Without spoiling too much, a general summary of the story: Miriam grows up an orphan in war-ravaged Europe, doing her best to survive in changing circumstances. She develops a meditation technique that she realizes could help others deal with their trauma from the war, and becomes a self-taught psychological expert. A key part of her methods is removing memories. As the New Society is developed by some of her mentors, idealists dedicated to the idea of eradicating the tribalism that leads to war, she sees her methods adopted by others and spread across the world. A linchpin of the system is eliminating "familial nationalism," as Miriam calls it. Eventually, the government mandates that families be eliminated entirely, using Miriam's methods to erase parents' and children's' memories of each other. Miriam helps with the work for a while, but eventually comes to question it and how it's being put to use. Her questions, though, are too little, too late, and amount to nothing.
Most dystopian stories are about the cracks and totalitarian downsides of a utopia at the end of its life, the protagonists helping to tear it apart. This one flips that story on its head. In the background of this tale is the creation of a successful utopia just getting started, the protagonist unwittingly helping to create what may, in fact be a dystopia.
After all, she doesn't even seem to be sure herself which it is:
We were an orphaned people in the Reckoning. We had all been surviving alone, by our wits and gambles, for so long. But as the New Society gained traction as a philosophy, and later as a fully realized world government, that began to change. Soon, whatever need we had could be addressed by some newly developed agency.
What a luxury.
These days it doesn't seem like a luxury, of course. Such a system seems essential, basic; it's taken for granted. The state is everyone's parents and it will see to everyone's needs--whether those needs are nourishment and support or discipline.
There were revolts against the formation of the New Society throughout the 1930s and 40s. But they usually burned out before they spread too far. They would lose momentum because it's hard to rise up against a government that's giving people everything they need. Even if that same government is taking something away in the process.
Or, maybe the editors are right, and she's sadly unhinged from reality. Another footnote:
*The author is being both exceptionally arrogant and alarmist. She sounds like a conspiracy theorist. The Age Ten Protocols and the treatments relevant to them were not "unleashed"--they were carefully and thoughtfully developed. It is foolish to suggest that they were implemented without proper vetting. Our world was almost destroyed by violence caused by inherited hatred and prejudice. By removing the ability to inherit, we have achieved a truly peaceful and equal world.
She might be a conspiracy theorist wrongly protesting a utopia or she might be the only person seeing clearly in a dystopia. It's never settled; and either option is an unsettling one. Mildly sinister and haunting, a quietly disquieting story. Deliciously so. Definitely thought-provoking and fun.
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A footnote of my own: I read this book because I loved the other book by co-author Matthewson, Of Things Gone Astray. I learned it is also part of the world the authors have created for their podcast Within the Wires, a backstory and history for the stories they tell there. So I'm sure fans of the podcast will love this, but I loved it even without knowing the podcast....more
This is such a fantastic series. Action, intrigue, characters, and an amazing setting, along with a subtle exploration of identity and personhood. HumThis is such a fantastic series. Action, intrigue, characters, and an amazing setting, along with a subtle exploration of identity and personhood. Humans, an amazing variety of alien species, and an amazing variety of machine intelligences all interacting during adventures spread across the universe. Told by a top-notch author. Just wonderful....more
There are a lot of things to like about this book. It's fun, fast-paced, sensitive, and positive. Lots of diverse, interesting characters. I think manThere are a lot of things to like about this book. It's fun, fast-paced, sensitive, and positive. Lots of diverse, interesting characters. I think many readers will love it. I made myself write all of that, though, made myself acknowledge its appeal, to talk myself up to three stars from two. I found the story's telling too . . . superficial, too shallow and breezy. The right ideas are there, but portrayed without depth or heft or believability--not the plot or science, but the people--their thoughts, words, and emotions--never felt real, just a flat, two-dimensional imitation. So it's not bad, but it wasn't a good fit for me....more
I have to admit that, despite contrary evidence in the title and on the cover, I start every Jonathan Stroud book hoping it's secretly another BartimaI have to admit that, despite contrary evidence in the title and on the cover, I start every Jonathan Stroud book hoping it's secretly another Bartimaeus story. Which means, no matter anything else about the book, I'm always slightly disappointed it's not. Luckily, Stroud is such a good writer that it makes no difference--the books always win me over in the end. I just thought I should admit that bias up front.
Anyway, Scarlett and Browne.
It's funny, exciting, weighty, and full of unexpected heart (as all of Stroud's books manage to be). This one pairs a plucky, tough, adventurous bank robber who wants as few attachments as possible with a strange, innocent, and secretly scary escapee. (To say more than that would be spoilers.) It's set in a vaguely defined alternate England, probably after a global warming catastrophe that has impacted the natural evolutionary process and created strange new powers. So the setting is some kind of original mashup of English countryside and villages, U.S wild west, post-apocalyptic societal collapse, monsterish animals, and zombies. That all plays in the background as the adventure stays focused on the odd-ball pairing of the two protagonists as they flee the law--and other, more mysterious pursuers--across the land. They hop from one exciting situation to another, barely evading danger, getting to know each other along the way. And (as all of Stroud's books manage to be) it's funny, exciting, weighty, and full of unexpected heart.
The narrator is reflective, curious, self-conscious and insecure. He is also a washed-up former star of a faWonderfully quirky, nerdy, and compelling.
The narrator is reflective, curious, self-conscious and insecure. He is also a washed-up former star of a fading industry, suffering a mid-life crisis and looking back on how he has gotten to where he is. It almost reads like an alternate reality autobiography, feeling confessional, personal, and true. And it features ruminations on math, science, death, ritual sacrifice, mysticism, and repeated use of the word "chthonic."
I have to admit, though, I was hooked from the moment I read the author bio on the back jacket flap.
James Kennedy is the author of The Order of Odd-Fish. Before becoming a writer, he was a computer programmer with a degree in physics and philosophy. Dare to Know is his first adult novel.
For one, I'm in the fairly small group of people who read and enjoyed The Order of Odd-Fish when it came out some 14 odd years ago and have been waiting for his sophomore effort since. Even more, I was thrilled by someone into writing, computer programming, physics, and philosophy. This, to me, is someone who wants to understand how things work--and why. And I wasn't disappointed, because this book's narrator is all of those things.
This reads a little bit like The Matrix. Well, it lives in The Matrix's neighborhood. The part without any action sequences or coolness, in the library, museum, and university district. Still, our character dwells on the edges of the code that determines reality. He has a special awareness that most people lack, a special talent to almost manipulate reality. And he is a struggling, lonely, bitter salesman in crisis. He's Neo crossed with Willy Loman.
What he sells is math. The math related to a recently-discovered particle called the thanaton, which determine the whens and hows of death. He calculates and sells people their death dates.
Everyone was shocked that thanatons behaved according to mathematics that were, for lack of a better term, subjective. Stettinger's breakthrough: to acknowledge that the solver was part of the problem. That is, when solving for the thanaton, both the problem and its solver changed--they changed each other, step by step, during the solving process. Even more unexpected: that you could only do subjective math by inventing your own subjective way. You had to construct your own version of the math, your own version of the algorithms, your own heuristics, even your own notation. That's why computers can't do subjective mathematics. It's why thanatons were resisted for so long by traditional mathematicians.
He spends some of the book explaining thanatons, their discovery, his interest, the growth and decline of his industry, the path of his career. He spends some of it remembering old friendships that were pivotal to his identity, and more on his misadventures in love and family. All the things that have brought him to his current moment.
Woven into those confessions are hints of terror, things that don't make sense, cracks in the system. He slowly parcels them out with marvelous plotting, building tension and momentum and vague, creeping dread until readers join him in feeling that there's something else, something more to thanatons than anyone knows. And that we're bound to find out.
I'm sure this book won't be for every reader. For me, with similar interests and manner of thinking, of a contemporary age to resonate with all the life-experience and pop-culture references, it was a perfect fit.
A sample:
To my surprise, Renard felt the same way. He said that music on the radio sometimes freaked him out, too, but for him it was the sleek, artificial eighties anthems that were haunted; to Renard those songs sounded reptilian, sinister, metallic; he remembered one time, late at night in bed listening to the radio, when Don Henley's "The Boys of Summer" came on, he had felt a chill at the lyric about seeing a deadhead sticker on a Cadillac. Renard had no idea what a "deadhead sticker" was but it had sounded to him like a satanic emblem--and since the sticker was displayed on a Cadillac, that implied that even the wealthy were in on the satanism, that society's spiritual corruption went all the way to the top. Renard had also imagined the "little voice inside my head" referred to an actual voice that broke into the singer's consciousness, hissing behind his ear, Don't look back, you can never look back. So the question is, should you obey this demon voice or defy it? Should you actually look back? But wait, what if it's a deliberate taunt, what if the voice's intention is to goad you into looking back? In that case, you really mustn't look back, right? Like how Indiana Jones tells Marion not to look when they open the lost ark? Because maybe the deadhead sticker wants to do something worse than melt your face off, it wants to infect the world with its evil, and if you did turn around to look at the deadhead sticker on the Cadillac it would find its way into you, it would place its evil in you.
The second half of Lauren Oya Olamina's story. In an afterword interview in the edition I read, Butler says the two books started as one continuous stThe second half of Lauren Oya Olamina's story. In an afterword interview in the edition I read, Butler says the two books started as one continuous story until logistics compelled her to divide it in half.
I intended to write the fictional autobiography of Lauren Olamina--her story of her struggle to spread her beliefs in the hope that those beliefs would redirect people away from the chaos and destructiveness into which they have fallen and toward a consuming, creative long-term goal.
This title continues the story begun in Parable of the Sower, picking up five uneventful years later. A framing device of Olamina's daughter has been added, which provides an interesting perspective and complexity, another layer of depth. Otherwise they could very well be combined into one long book.
It continues, as I said in my review of the first title, a story of life during the gradual collapse of U.S. civilization due to extreme income inequality and global warming, and about one young woman's attempts both to survive and to find community through the creation of a new understanding of God.
The global warming dynamic is still present--so many people have fled north, for instance, that Alaska has closed its borders, seceded from the Union, and declared itself an independent nation; which then allies with Canada in a war against the rest of the U.S.--but the larger, more immediate threat to Lauren and her community is a new president.
He is the founder of the Christian fundamentalist denomination called "Christian America," and he gets elected by promising to "make America great again." (Yes, really; published in 1998.) His followers begin an underground campaign to burn competing places of worship and convert or persecute everyone else.
Jarret condemns the burnings, but does so in such mild language that his people are free to hear what they want to hear. As for the beatings, the tarring and feathering, and the destruction of "heathen houses of devil-worship," he has a simple answer: "Join us! Our doors are open to every nationality, every race! Leave your sinful past behind, and become one of us. Help us to make America great again."
This half of the story also focuses much more explicitly on Olamina's work growing her new religion; which, of course, puts her in direct conflict with Jarret's people, and she suffers terribly for it.
Butler once again dissects and critiques many of the worst aspects of human society, displaying the evils we're capable of. (Be warned: this is grim, horrific stuff.) She provides a fascinating look at the role religion plays in society, both good and bad, and a believable description of how a new religion might be started by just the right person. The main narrative holds Olamina in high regard, as she builds a new sense of community based on compassion from the crumbled ruins of what was, even as the frame provided by the daughter, looking back from the future, criticizes her necessary flaws (such as her drive for (benevolent) power and her ability to manipulate people). It is a powerful and ultimately hopeful story.
An introduction to Olamina's religion, filtered through her daughter:
"God is Change," my mother believed. That was what she said in the first of her verses in Earthseed: The First Book of the Living.
All that you touch You Change.
All that you Change Changes you.
The only lasting truth Is Change.
God Is Change.
The words are harmless, I suppose, and metaphorically true. At least she began with some species of truth. And now she's touched me one last time with her memories, her life, and her damned Earthseed.
An example of the world she lives in:
Indenturing indigents, young and old, is much in fashion now. The Thirteenth and Fourteenth Amendments--the ones abolishing slavery and guaranteeing citizenship rights--still exist, but they've been so weakened by custom, by Congress and the various state legislatures, and by recent Supreme Court decisions that they don't much matter. Indenturing indigents is supposed to keep them employed, teach them a trade, feed them, house them, and keep them out of trouble. In fact, it's just one more way of getting people to work for nothing or almost nothing. Little girls are valued because they can be used in so many ways, and they can be coerced into being quick, docile, disposable labor.
And a section with her in the midst of converting a traveling companion into a follower:
"Do I seem normal to you?"
I couldn't help seeing where she was going with that. "We're survivors, Len. You are. I am. Most of Georgetown is. All of Acorn was. We've been slammed around in all kinds of ways. We're all wounded. We're healing as best we can. And, no, we're not normal. Normal people wouldn't have survived what we've survived. If we were normal we'd be dead."
That made her cry. I just held her. No doubt she had been repressing far too much in recent years. When had anyone last held her and let her cry? I held her. After a while, she lay down, and I thought she was falling asleep. Then she spoke.
"If God is Change, then . . . then who loves us? Who cares about us? Who cares for us?"
"We care for one another," I said. "We care for ourselves and one another." And I quoted,
"Kindness eases Change. Love quiets fear."
At that, she surprised me. She said, "Yes, I liked that one." And she finished the quote:
"And a sweet and powerful Positive obsession Blunts pain, Diverts rage, And engages each of us In the greatest, The most intense Of our chosen struggles."
And, somehow, this refugee with nothing, just trying to survive a society that has largely decided she is an undesirable, finds a way to engage people in building new community as part of the quest to send Humanity to the stars. It is a powerful story....more
Playing guitar helps me pass as human, and after today I really need the practice.
For young readers, that is a relatable metaphor, one that captur
Playing guitar helps me pass as human, and after today I really need the practice.
For young readers, that is a relatable metaphor, one that captures well the emotional journey of middle school. Desperately wanting to fit in and constant, convincing anxiety of failure. For Jake, though, it's a more literal statement. His parents adopted him after he fell to earth as a blog of goo then transformed into a baby. All has been fine until recently, when he's lost his ability to control his form and has been randomly, accidentally changing into strange and surprising shapes.
There is an intriguing science fiction mystery behind Jake's uncontrolled transformations, one he gradually uncovers with the help of a new best friend. The story reads quickly, with plenty of action and humor on top of that earnest layer of vulnerability at the heart of the book. It's a story full of appeal that will please many readers.
"Jake," she says, very seriously, "I'm going to share with you my philosophy of life, the one and only thing in the whole universe I know to be true. I think you're ready to hear this."
I check my pocket for a pen to write down whatever Agnes says next. "Okay. I'm ready."
"If you are ever given a chance to climb through air shafts and toss smoke bombs, you absolutely must climb through air shafts and toss smoke bombs."
"That definitely does sound like your philosophy. Me, my philosophy is if you are ever given a chance to be dissected, you probably should avoid being dissected.”
"Ugh, Jake, that is a good philosophy," she says, deflated.
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I'm going to be a professional guitarist someday. I just haven't decided what kind yet. Maybe I'll join a metal band and be a guitar hero playing five-minute solos. Or maybe I'll be a singer-songwriter and play songs about lonesome nights or whatever. Most of those guys have beards, so I'll have to learn how to grow facial hair. Whatever kind of guitarist I am, I'll need to practice a lot and get really good. Fortunately, I like practice. It makes me concentrate on what I'm doing with my fingers. How they move. What color they are. What shape they are. How many of them I have. Playing guitar helps me pass as human, and after today I really need the practice.
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