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dsnake1's reviews
572 reviews
Boys, Beasts & Men by Sam J. Miller
Sam J. Miller's Boys, Beasts & Men is a haunting collection of short science fiction, fantasy, and horror. The collection is exquisite, from the stories to the sequence, and it's one of my all-time favorite collections.
Most of the stories are focused on LGBTQ+ characters, specifically gay men, or characters adjacent to them. It sets real-world issues and themes up against the supernatural, from mysterious powers to cosmic parasitic entities and more. There are stories involved that take aim at other socio-economic issues, but the collection is LGBTQ+ at its core.
Each story is framed by a few lines which tell the story of a man and a stranger he meets. This framing story is fine, but I'm not sure they were completely necessary. Honestly, it took me over half the book to realize a pretty key component about the framing story, although that was a fun reveal.
The stories themselves are top-notch.
Allosaurus Burgers is all about a kid realizing his parent is just a person, but it also has an allosaurus. This was a pretty neutral story, and it was a good one to start the collection with.
57 Reasons for the Slate Quarry Suicides plays with the short story format, giving us a numbered list of paragraphs, explaining events that went down at the Slate Quarry. Even though it had an experimental format, the story was pretty straightforward. It did remind me a lot of Stephen King's Carrie, though, which is name-dropped in the story.
We Are the Cloud was a gripping cyberpunk story about a kid who just wanted to feel like someone cared about him when it's clear society doesn't.
Conspicuous Plumage is a story set in a world where everyone gets a special power when they hit a certain age -- well, almost everyone. Our protagonist seems to lack, but their brother didn't. At least, until he was murdered. The story is really about coming to terms with that grief, and it's a moving one.
Shattered Sidewalks of the Human Heart uses Kong -- yes, that one -- to examine the monstrous nature of humans. Even though I honestly am not the biggest fan of the concept, the sheer brilliance in execution in this story really landed for me.
Shucked is the most literary of the stories in this collection. A recent couple, young folks who really aren't what you'd call financially sound, are in a destination location when an older man offers some cash for some time with our POV character's boyfriend. Then the question becomes whether the same boyfriend comes back down the stairs. It's literary in tone, and it brushes up more against paranoia than SFF, but the genre influences are still there.
The Beasts We Want to Be struck a deeper chord with me than I'd expected. Miller ends up getting us to a place of sympathy for Stalinist enforcers. There's behavior modification at the core of this story, alongside the beauty of humanity, and it flows well together. This probably was the weakest story in the collection for me, but that's not to say it wouldn't be amongst the stronger in some of the other collections I've read.
Calved is a cli-fi story set on a super-advanced floating base of a sort that protects humanity from the worsened weather conditions, but it's about the age-old story of a son growing up and outgrowing his father. This time, the father does something to try and get the son to realize he doesn't have to outgrow his father, but that something really doesn't turn out as expected. I really liked this story. I felt the twist coming rather early, but that didn't make it any less heart-wrenching when it was all spelled out.
When Your Child Strays from God is framed as a rough draft of a church website blogpost, penned by the wife of a pastor whose son is "out of control". Of course, "out of control" in an overly controlling, restrictive conservative household means something very different than being out of control, in reality. Ultimately, this is the story of a mother finding her son and, in the process, finding herself. I loved it. I loved the tone, the framing; it really felt like it was written by a semi-bitter housewife who is overshadowed and defined by her husband's public persona. This might have been the story I enjoyed the most throughout.
Things With Beards is Miller's cosmic horror story. He does an excellent job of tying it into the fight for police reform and anti-racism, which I always enjoy in a cosmic horror story. That being said, it's simple in that it doesn't try to be anything other than an interesting cosmic horror story, and it succeeds at that.
Ghosts of Home is a strong critique of the housing practices of late-stage capitalism, and it's especially pertinent at a time where housing prices are soaring amidst what was four straight years of rising homelessness rates before the Covid-19 pandemic hit. It pulls from the idea of house spirits, which is an idea present in a number of cultures and one I really enjoyed reading, while also showing how capitalistic giants are likely to try and gamify or attempt to mass-replicate the person-to-home relationship if there's something in it for them. The ideas in this story are some of my favorites throughout.
The Heat of Us: Notes Toward an Oral History is framed as an article in a world where Stonewall wasn't just where LGBTQ+ people fought back but when they fought back by incinerating officers via collective pyrokinesis. It's a deeply moving story, and I stand by it as an incredibly moving story.
Angel, Monster, Man is a story about what might have happened if instead of the AIDS epidemic (and the lack of action by authority figures at the time) wiping out the LGBTQ+ arts movement that was blossoming at the time, a group of people attributed it to a fictitious individual. Of course, with this being a SFF collection (that brings in horror more often than not, in my opinion), all that creative energy had to create a being, right? And that just goes swell, right?
Sun in an Empty Room is told from the perspective of a couch. It's a story of love, loss, and Nihilism, but again, from the perspective of a thrift store couch. It's a surprisingly good story, though.
All in all, this is a well-laid-out collection of character-centric science fiction, fantasy, and horror stories often, but not always, centered on social struggles or issues, primarily those relating to the LGBTQ+ community. It's one of the best collections I've read in the last few years, and it's the start of my Sam J. Miller reading, but it certainly won't be the last.
dark
emotional
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? A mix
- Strong character development? N/A
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? N/A
5.0
Special thanks to Tachyon Publications, which provided me with a copy for review.
Sam J. Miller's Boys, Beasts & Men is a haunting collection of short science fiction, fantasy, and horror. The collection is exquisite, from the stories to the sequence, and it's one of my all-time favorite collections.
Most of the stories are focused on LGBTQ+ characters, specifically gay men, or characters adjacent to them. It sets real-world issues and themes up against the supernatural, from mysterious powers to cosmic parasitic entities and more. There are stories involved that take aim at other socio-economic issues, but the collection is LGBTQ+ at its core.
Each story is framed by a few lines which tell the story of a man and a stranger he meets. This framing story is fine, but I'm not sure they were completely necessary. Honestly, it took me over half the book to realize a pretty key component about the framing story, although that was a fun reveal.
The stories themselves are top-notch.
Allosaurus Burgers is all about a kid realizing his parent is just a person, but it also has an allosaurus. This was a pretty neutral story, and it was a good one to start the collection with.
57 Reasons for the Slate Quarry Suicides plays with the short story format, giving us a numbered list of paragraphs, explaining events that went down at the Slate Quarry. Even though it had an experimental format, the story was pretty straightforward. It did remind me a lot of Stephen King's Carrie, though, which is name-dropped in the story.
We Are the Cloud was a gripping cyberpunk story about a kid who just wanted to feel like someone cared about him when it's clear society doesn't.
Conspicuous Plumage is a story set in a world where everyone gets a special power when they hit a certain age -- well, almost everyone. Our protagonist seems to lack, but their brother didn't. At least, until he was murdered. The story is really about coming to terms with that grief, and it's a moving one.
Shattered Sidewalks of the Human Heart uses Kong -- yes, that one -- to examine the monstrous nature of humans. Even though I honestly am not the biggest fan of the concept, the sheer brilliance in execution in this story really landed for me.
Shucked is the most literary of the stories in this collection. A recent couple, young folks who really aren't what you'd call financially sound, are in a destination location when an older man offers some cash for some time with our POV character's boyfriend. Then the question becomes whether the same boyfriend comes back down the stairs. It's literary in tone, and it brushes up more against paranoia than SFF, but the genre influences are still there.
The Beasts We Want to Be struck a deeper chord with me than I'd expected. Miller ends up getting us to a place of sympathy for Stalinist enforcers. There's behavior modification at the core of this story, alongside the beauty of humanity, and it flows well together. This probably was the weakest story in the collection for me, but that's not to say it wouldn't be amongst the stronger in some of the other collections I've read.
Calved is a cli-fi story set on a super-advanced floating base of a sort that protects humanity from the worsened weather conditions, but it's about the age-old story of a son growing up and outgrowing his father. This time, the father does something to try and get the son to realize he doesn't have to outgrow his father, but that something really doesn't turn out as expected. I really liked this story. I felt the twist coming rather early, but that didn't make it any less heart-wrenching when it was all spelled out.
When Your Child Strays from God is framed as a rough draft of a church website blogpost, penned by the wife of a pastor whose son is "out of control". Of course, "out of control" in an overly controlling, restrictive conservative household means something very different than being out of control, in reality. Ultimately, this is the story of a mother finding her son and, in the process, finding herself. I loved it. I loved the tone, the framing; it really felt like it was written by a semi-bitter housewife who is overshadowed and defined by her husband's public persona. This might have been the story I enjoyed the most throughout.
Things With Beards is Miller's cosmic horror story. He does an excellent job of tying it into the fight for police reform and anti-racism, which I always enjoy in a cosmic horror story. That being said, it's simple in that it doesn't try to be anything other than an interesting cosmic horror story, and it succeeds at that.
Ghosts of Home is a strong critique of the housing practices of late-stage capitalism, and it's especially pertinent at a time where housing prices are soaring amidst what was four straight years of rising homelessness rates before the Covid-19 pandemic hit. It pulls from the idea of house spirits, which is an idea present in a number of cultures and one I really enjoyed reading, while also showing how capitalistic giants are likely to try and gamify or attempt to mass-replicate the person-to-home relationship if there's something in it for them. The ideas in this story are some of my favorites throughout.
The Heat of Us: Notes Toward an Oral History is framed as an article in a world where Stonewall wasn't just where LGBTQ+ people fought back but when they fought back by incinerating officers via collective pyrokinesis. It's a deeply moving story, and I stand by it as an incredibly moving story.
Angel, Monster, Man is a story about what might have happened if instead of the AIDS epidemic (and the lack of action by authority figures at the time) wiping out the LGBTQ+ arts movement that was blossoming at the time, a group of people attributed it to a fictitious individual. Of course, with this being a SFF collection (that brings in horror more often than not, in my opinion), all that creative energy had to create a being, right? And that just goes swell, right?
Sun in an Empty Room is told from the perspective of a couch. It's a story of love, loss, and Nihilism, but again, from the perspective of a thrift store couch. It's a surprisingly good story, though.
All in all, this is a well-laid-out collection of character-centric science fiction, fantasy, and horror stories often, but not always, centered on social struggles or issues, primarily those relating to the LGBTQ+ community. It's one of the best collections I've read in the last few years, and it's the start of my Sam J. Miller reading, but it certainly won't be the last.
The Taxidermist's Lover by Polly Hall
dark
mysterious
tense
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
5.0
The Taxidermist's Lover is a gothic, disturbing narrative told from wife to husband, detailing their marriage. The book jumps back and forth between Christmas day and the year leading up to it.
Scarlett and Henry don't have a lot in common. They're not the same age, they don't share a lot of hobbies, but Scarlett is absolutely enamored by Henry. Henry seems to be into two things; Scarlett and taxidermy. He's a taxidermist by trade, and with some prodding from Scarlett, gets into mythological and hybrid taxidermy. Swans and dogs, the like.
As we go along in time, Scarlett really starts to hit the gothic beats. I don't want to go into much more of this because the ending is phenomenal, but this book is a fantastic example of gothic
Scarlett and Henry don't have a lot in common. They're not the same age, they don't share a lot of hobbies, but Scarlett is absolutely enamored by Henry. Henry seems to be into two things; Scarlett and taxidermy. He's a taxidermist by trade, and with some prodding from Scarlett, gets into mythological and hybrid taxidermy. Swans and dogs, the like.
As we go along in time, Scarlett really starts to hit the gothic beats. I don't want to go into much more of this because the ending is phenomenal, but this book is a fantastic example of gothic
A Mirror Mended by Alix E. Harrow
lighthearted
relaxing
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
NetGalley and the publisher, Macmillan Audio and Tordotcom, provided me with a review copy of the audiobook.
Set after the events in A Spindle Splintered, A Mirror Mended is a direct sequel, following Zinnia Gray, who has taken to giving other Sleeping Beauties choices in what would otherwise be their story's preplanned ending. It doesn't take long for something to go amiss, though. Zinnia finds herself firmly in a Snow White story but not with Snow White.
A Mirror Mended is all about the person behind the story and the story behind the person. People in these stories aren't just their roles, but everyone still fits into a broader story.
I would say that this is a half step down from A Spindle Splintered. That's not to say this is bad, but I feel like we get less development of Zinnia here. The plot's also a bit fuzzier, and I'm not certain for the best.
That being said, I really enjoyed the queen. Her actions, realizations, and choices were refreshing. I also enjoyed how this brought the duology to an end. It wrapped the entire package up nicely.
As for the narrator, I enjoyed what they brought to the table. No complaints there.
Set after the events in A Spindle Splintered, A Mirror Mended is a direct sequel, following Zinnia Gray, who has taken to giving other Sleeping Beauties choices in what would otherwise be their story's preplanned ending. It doesn't take long for something to go amiss, though. Zinnia finds herself firmly in a Snow White story but not with Snow White.
A Mirror Mended is all about the person behind the story and the story behind the person. People in these stories aren't just their roles, but everyone still fits into a broader story.
I would say that this is a half step down from A Spindle Splintered. That's not to say this is bad, but I feel like we get less development of Zinnia here. The plot's also a bit fuzzier, and I'm not certain for the best.
That being said, I really enjoyed the queen. Her actions, realizations, and choices were refreshing. I also enjoyed how this brought the duology to an end. It wrapped the entire package up nicely.
As for the narrator, I enjoyed what they brought to the table. No complaints there.
Utopia PR by Adam Bender
funny
lighthearted
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? No
- Diverse cast of characters? Yes
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
3.5
NetGalley and the publisher, Adam Bender, provided me with a review copy.
I've been seeing Utopia PR around a good amount over the last year or so, and this copy got me to take the plunge, so to speak.
I'm quite glad I did.
Utopia PR is a witty, clever story that hearkens back to Wag the Dog -- but at what cost.
We follow Blake Hamner, a former PR blogger turned Crisis Communications Manager, as he tries to avert what seems like daily crises in the wake of the musician-turned-president, nicknamed Our Leader. On top of being exhausted and overworked, he's the husband of one of the premier cable news network's lead anchor. When things start to get weird -- and serious, but mostly weird-- Hamner will face all kinds of decisions, primarily about where his priorities lie.
The book is more satire than laugh-out-loud comedy, although some fairly silly elements do slip in. Frankly, I thought some of the silliest components of the story struck close too home, but that's the goal of satire, I suppose.
The plot is a little messy, the characters are a bit archetypal, and the explanation for some of Hamner's mistakes feels a bit like a cop-out for this supposed PR genius, but the pacing and satire are absolutely on-point. This may not be the most structurally perfect read, but it is incredibly entertaining.
If you're into political satire beyond a satire about policy or decisions, and if you want a fast-moving book that might get too close to the truth here and there, this is a solid choice.
I've been seeing Utopia PR around a good amount over the last year or so, and this copy got me to take the plunge, so to speak.
I'm quite glad I did.
Utopia PR is a witty, clever story that hearkens back to Wag the Dog -- but at what cost.
We follow Blake Hamner, a former PR blogger turned Crisis Communications Manager, as he tries to avert what seems like daily crises in the wake of the musician-turned-president, nicknamed Our Leader. On top of being exhausted and overworked, he's the husband of one of the premier cable news network's lead anchor. When things start to get weird -- and serious, but mostly weird-- Hamner will face all kinds of decisions, primarily about where his priorities lie.
The book is more satire than laugh-out-loud comedy, although some fairly silly elements do slip in. Frankly, I thought some of the silliest components of the story struck close too home, but that's the goal of satire, I suppose.
The plot is a little messy, the characters are a bit archetypal, and the explanation for some of Hamner's mistakes feels a bit like a cop-out for this supposed PR genius, but the pacing and satire are absolutely on-point. This may not be the most structurally perfect read, but it is incredibly entertaining.
If you're into political satire beyond a satire about policy or decisions, and if you want a fast-moving book that might get too close to the truth here and there, this is a solid choice.
A Grain of Truth by Jacek RembiĆ
dark
tense
medium-paced
4.0
The publisher, Dark Horse Books, has provided me a digital copy for review.
Andrzej Sapkowski's The Witcher Volume 1: A Grain of Truth is a graphic novel adaptation of one of the short stories written by Sapkowski in the first Witcher short story collection, titled the same. The adaptation follows the story closely enough, and the artwork is on-point.
The story itself is one I've enjoyed in a number of formats (written, audio, and the TV show, S2:E1), but I have heard a number of people don't like this one. It's a somewhat-distanced retelling of Beauty and the Beast, for what it's worth.
Also, I don't mean to gloss over the controversy surrounding the short story. Just note that this is a true-to-form adaptation, more so than the episode of the show.
The adaptation, script, and overall verbal design goes a long way of capturing the tone of the original story. The characters feel as I expected them to, and everything flows well.
The artwork is where this volume shines. Jonas Scharf does a fantastic job.
This is a good read for any Witcher fans, and it's not a bad place to start, either. This story is a bit heavy, but most of Sapkowski's world is. I'm quite excited for the rest of the series of adaptations, assuming they maintain the quality of this one.
Andrzej Sapkowski's The Witcher Volume 1: A Grain of Truth is a graphic novel adaptation of one of the short stories written by Sapkowski in the first Witcher short story collection, titled the same. The adaptation follows the story closely enough, and the artwork is on-point.
The story itself is one I've enjoyed in a number of formats (written, audio, and the TV show, S2:E1), but I have heard a number of people don't like this one. It's a somewhat-distanced retelling of Beauty and the Beast, for what it's worth.
Also, I don't mean to gloss over the controversy surrounding the short story. Just note that this is a true-to-form adaptation, more so than the episode of the show.
The adaptation, script, and overall verbal design goes a long way of capturing the tone of the original story. The characters feel as I expected them to, and everything flows well.
The artwork is where this volume shines. Jonas Scharf does a fantastic job.
This is a good read for any Witcher fans, and it's not a bad place to start, either. This story is a bit heavy, but most of Sapkowski's world is. I'm quite excited for the rest of the series of adaptations, assuming they maintain the quality of this one.
Od Magic by Patricia A. McKillip
lighthearted
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
4.0
Od Magic by Patricia McKillip is a free-flowing story of a kingdom, a wizarding school, and the founding wizard, Od.
Well, Od is a big player, but not a big page-time earner. We get a number of perspectives. Brenden, from the blurb, is a magical gardener of a sort who is recruited by Od to the school to be a gardner. We have Princess Sulys; Mistral, the daughter of an illusionist; Arneth, son of the City Warden; Yar, a professor at the wizarding school; and maybe another (I cannot recall if Valoren, the King's councilor, is a POV).
Some of these stories are rather loosely related until the conclusion, and I'd describe the plot of this novel as more of a general theme and flow than a direct plot. Each character does have a plot, motivations, goals, etc, but they're not necessarily tied to each other. Well, except maybe for Od's, but that's for the reader to decide.
The prose plays into this with its flowing, lyrical style, as well. We float through the city on comfortable strings of words as we go along. This isn't to say there isn't tension or conflict in the story, but just that we really flow through in a graceful way.
I'd also say the magic plays into it as well. It lacks hard rules and edges, and most of the magic is incredibly soft. There is a school, so there must be some sort of in-universe parameters, but those aren't shown to the reader, so it's another aspect that feels comfortably fluffy.
This is all juxtaposed to the society. Magic is unallowed outside of magic which helps the kingdom and/or is in the magic school. The magic school's purpose has shifted to that which helps the kingdom. The rules are very rigid, and the characters all mostly bristle at the rigidity. It makes for an interesting juxtaposition, even if it's one we've seen before.
I enjoyed this as a fun, lightweight, comfort read, and it's definitely something I'll keep on hand for that purpose.
Well, Od is a big player, but not a big page-time earner. We get a number of perspectives. Brenden, from the blurb, is a magical gardener of a sort who is recruited by Od to the school to be a gardner. We have Princess Sulys; Mistral, the daughter of an illusionist; Arneth, son of the City Warden; Yar, a professor at the wizarding school; and maybe another (I cannot recall if Valoren, the King's councilor, is a POV).
Some of these stories are rather loosely related until the conclusion, and I'd describe the plot of this novel as more of a general theme and flow than a direct plot. Each character does have a plot, motivations, goals, etc, but they're not necessarily tied to each other. Well, except maybe for Od's, but that's for the reader to decide.
The prose plays into this with its flowing, lyrical style, as well. We float through the city on comfortable strings of words as we go along. This isn't to say there isn't tension or conflict in the story, but just that we really flow through in a graceful way.
I'd also say the magic plays into it as well. It lacks hard rules and edges, and most of the magic is incredibly soft. There is a school, so there must be some sort of in-universe parameters, but those aren't shown to the reader, so it's another aspect that feels comfortably fluffy.
This is all juxtaposed to the society. Magic is unallowed outside of magic which helps the kingdom and/or is in the magic school. The magic school's purpose has shifted to that which helps the kingdom. The rules are very rigid, and the characters all mostly bristle at the rigidity. It makes for an interesting juxtaposition, even if it's one we've seen before.
I enjoyed this as a fun, lightweight, comfort read, and it's definitely something I'll keep on hand for that purpose.
Reading the Bible Backwards by Robert Priest
reflective
medium-paced
4.0
NetGalley and the publisher, ECW Press, provided me with a review copy.
Reading the Bible Backwards is an experimental poetry collection that examines, dissects, and recreates Biblical and cultural narratives. It takes a serious look at how these narratives have impacted our society and asks questions about how they should impact our society.
Social conventions from religion to love to time are all put under the microscope, and Priest uses techniques like word replacement, especially relating to homophones and near-homophones. Wordplay is common in poetry, but Priest takes it to another level with some of the poems centered around wordplay as a concept.
Like most poetry collections, Reading the Bible Backwards has its ups and downs. It starts incredibly strong with poems centered directly on deconstructing Western ideas of religion. Then it slides back a little in the middle as more mundane aspects of society are examined, although not without a few gems. Then it comes back strong near the end with examinations of time, infinity, and love.
Throughout the collection, Priest maintains the experimental nature of the poetry, playing with different forms, formats, lengths, and styles. Sometimes, the turn of phrase is the entirety of the poem; other times, the poems are seemingly straightforward.
This collection is clearly worth a read. I've both read it and listened to the audiobook read by Priest himself, and both formats do justice to the poems on the page, although some of the homophone poems are more easily digested via text.
Reading the Bible Backwards is an experimental poetry collection that examines, dissects, and recreates Biblical and cultural narratives. It takes a serious look at how these narratives have impacted our society and asks questions about how they should impact our society.
Social conventions from religion to love to time are all put under the microscope, and Priest uses techniques like word replacement, especially relating to homophones and near-homophones. Wordplay is common in poetry, but Priest takes it to another level with some of the poems centered around wordplay as a concept.
Like most poetry collections, Reading the Bible Backwards has its ups and downs. It starts incredibly strong with poems centered directly on deconstructing Western ideas of religion. Then it slides back a little in the middle as more mundane aspects of society are examined, although not without a few gems. Then it comes back strong near the end with examinations of time, infinity, and love.
Throughout the collection, Priest maintains the experimental nature of the poetry, playing with different forms, formats, lengths, and styles. Sometimes, the turn of phrase is the entirety of the poem; other times, the poems are seemingly straightforward.
This collection is clearly worth a read. I've both read it and listened to the audiobook read by Priest himself, and both formats do justice to the poems on the page, although some of the homophone poems are more easily digested via text.
A Brief History of Timekeeping: The Science of Marking Time, from Stonehenge to Atomic Clocks by Chad Orzel
informative
medium-paced
3.5
NetGalley and the publisher provided me with a review copy.
A Brief History of Timekeeping: The Science of Marking Time, from Stonehenge to Atomic Clocks by Chad Orzel is a top-level overview of the ways humanity has kept track of time, primarily in chronological order.
Orzel clearly knows what he's talking about. From the broad overviews down to the specific examples, his history of clockwork and timekeeping is well-researched. His knowledge really shines, though, when we get to the back half of the book and move from discussions about calendars and astrological date keeping to mechanical clocks and the science of time. His experience as a physicist really comes off the page.
That being said, I really thought the book took a step down once it got into the science of timekeeping. The science portion is still relevant to the history of timekeeping, yes, and it's decently interesting stuff, but the whole tone changes. We go from a broad overview of the history of how and why people kept time and the differences in their methods and motivations to a detailed and focused look into the science of how recently modern and modern clocks keep time. There's a difference in tone and a difference in subject. This portion of the book, primarily the last few chapters, felt weaker to me than the early parts of the book.
Orzel does a solid job of both presenting the methods and history of how time was kept as well as presenting likely motivations for competing systems. The best example of this is his time spent writing about calendrical systems used by humanity throughout the past and how they came to be. The political and religious motivations were explained in a fascinating way, as well.
Overall, if you have questions about a specific era and how exactly people, from the rich to the poor to the urban to the rural, kept time, you may want to look for something more specific. If you want a decent outline of how timekeeping evolved, as well as thoughts and conceptions of time itself, this is a good book to pick up.
A Brief History of Timekeeping: The Science of Marking Time, from Stonehenge to Atomic Clocks by Chad Orzel is a top-level overview of the ways humanity has kept track of time, primarily in chronological order.
Orzel clearly knows what he's talking about. From the broad overviews down to the specific examples, his history of clockwork and timekeeping is well-researched. His knowledge really shines, though, when we get to the back half of the book and move from discussions about calendars and astrological date keeping to mechanical clocks and the science of time. His experience as a physicist really comes off the page.
That being said, I really thought the book took a step down once it got into the science of timekeeping. The science portion is still relevant to the history of timekeeping, yes, and it's decently interesting stuff, but the whole tone changes. We go from a broad overview of the history of how and why people kept time and the differences in their methods and motivations to a detailed and focused look into the science of how recently modern and modern clocks keep time. There's a difference in tone and a difference in subject. This portion of the book, primarily the last few chapters, felt weaker to me than the early parts of the book.
Orzel does a solid job of both presenting the methods and history of how time was kept as well as presenting likely motivations for competing systems. The best example of this is his time spent writing about calendrical systems used by humanity throughout the past and how they came to be. The political and religious motivations were explained in a fascinating way, as well.
Overall, if you have questions about a specific era and how exactly people, from the rich to the poor to the urban to the rural, kept time, you may want to look for something more specific. If you want a decent outline of how timekeeping evolved, as well as thoughts and conceptions of time itself, this is a good book to pick up.