thesinginglights's reviews
665 reviews

I mainly hid all of it because of the length.

I spent a long time trying to articulate my thoughts on this. Mostly to justify my rating over the abundance of 5 stars. But I don't need to "justify" anything: the review and rating reflect my experience with the book not anyone else's.

When reading this I was constantly reminded of "Rousseau" by Cyne, in particular the second verse by Rico Suave:

I was born free, but now I'm like a slave to society
Can't get a license without consent to field sobriety
If you have a plan, they say life will flow beautifully
I need tech support like Vanilla Sky
‘Cause someone lied to me, told me shit was cool
I made good grades, but damn, then got kicked outta school
It doesn't matter, my computer doesn't read the data
Even if you're smart, your life still can get shattered
Into little pieces, this is my thesis
Just ‘cause I raised BB in the belly of the beasts
My people died in vain, the pain is on my brain
And how can I get by when held by this mental strain?
I just don't understand, I be's a grown ass man
But every time I see the cops they make me lift my hands
So they can pat me down, and I just don't see how
I played by they rules but they still treat me foul
Damn!

The book is inspired by the Black Lives Matter movement, which is concerned with campaigning against systemic racially motivated violence, a significant portion of which is in the shape of police brutality. Police brutality is the main driver of the book as an unarmed black boy is killed by a rattled police officer. The thrust of the book is about our protagonist Starr who was witness to the crime and gets mixed up in the various issues of her society, from speaking out, to her high-crime neighbourhood, as well as the upper-class school she attends.

The idea of leading a "double life" or having two personas that you adopt--one for white people so that you don't appear threatening, the other is your more "natural" persona around close friends and your family--resonated with me. The idea of personas is more nuanced but there's only so much space you can allot to it in this in a book. The core of it is that having to essentially perform when around white people is something non-white people have to do frequently. To have that represented in art is such a significant thing and I'm glad we're getting to a point where these kinds of things are more commonplace.

Kendrick Lamar's "Mortal Man" helps illuminate certain significant aspects in the book as well:
If the government want me dead, plant cocaine in my car
Would you judge me a drug-head or see me as K. Lamar
Or question my character and degrade me on every blog

Spoiler

While Khalil doesn't have evidence planted, he is found to have been dealing drugs, which stimulates a reaction from the public that Khalil in some way "deserves" to have been shot. This was frustrating and poignant because the ways in which people perceive black people: as a threat and therefore any kind of violence dealt to them (us) is justified. If you unspool the logic in terms of desert you see it doesn't hold up. The case in hand: Khalil did not do precisely what he was told but did he deserve to get killed? No. Suppose he had drugs on him, does that mean he deserves to get killed? No. Arrested? Sure. But dead? Hell no. Also of note, Khalil was a teenager. Even if he was a grown man and unarmed he still wouldn't have deserved what happens to him, but it strikes as doubly unfair that it happens to him taking into account his age.

So when Starr's old friend (old as in "ex") says words to the effect that he deserved what he got in virtue of the drugs, I feel her frustration even though it results in actions that I don't agree with: her hitting said old friend.

Speaking of her friend, oh boy. Hailey. The amount of conversations I've had with various Haileys. Gee whizz. The people that hurt you the most are the people you're closest to. The friend who won't see why the things they say are hurtful and brush it off as a joke. It's hard to trust someone like that again and the downfall of that particular friendship is both inevitable and sad.

There are a lot of other things that I wanted to touch on like the positive representation of the parents--a stereotype for black people is absentee fathers--and many others like white people taking advantage of situations for personal gain instead of the issues at hand. But this isn't an essay.

Now why the four stars? It's a bit too long. You can see the size of the book when handling it but you can feel it when reading it. Some of it is down to the liberal margins/font size, but in terms of hyper-detailed mundane things, there are a lot of them and it adds to the bulk. I can appreciate that the point of them is to convey normality in the face of exceptionally adverse circumstances but I think they're excessive to be against the book's favour. It felt draft-level long (and I know I'm a hypocrite for saying that because I do it in my drafts but this is a finished work). Also, some of the action happened quite late in the book so the ending fell a little flat for me. Maybe that's a case of the wrong expectations: I thought the bulk of the book would be the stuff like the trial and her speaking out. Alas. I'm willing to put that on me, though.

Another thing which I don't think is a criticism but an observation: I couldn't help but feel frustrated by Starr with her explaining away racial issues with "you're white!" as a reason for one not trying to explain certain difficulties. I understand the impetus: white people in general have not shown a great propensity to understand the nuances of discrimination and there are specific aspects of race that cannot be bridged between race but in order to progress conversation, the channels of dialogue need to be opened up, even if people don't understand. Starr does open up about that to Chris so this is why it's not a criticism. Maybe it's praise for doing well for further displaying issues of being frank about race.

So overall, a moving book with accessible, pared-down prose, crackling dialogue, and poignant themes. This will be an artefact to identify the contemporary conversation of race.


Addendum to my "artefact" comment: my fear is that this will be held up as the poster-child of literature around race that white liberals while call their favourite and pat themselves on the back for being so socially aware, like To Kill A Mockingbird is/was. I don't want this to be seen as the totality of racial issues in the world, but as it is: a significant portion that will be a piece in a larger tapestry that explores race.

And so ends my first foray into the world of Fitz and I was not disappointed. I first read the Liveship Traders, both written and set after the events of the Farseer Trilogy. Hobb has changed little in the years which is no criticism as her writing is intimate and inviting. It's kind of annoying how fully-formed her writing is (and yes I know she wrote books before this), the prose beautiful and unpretentious.

I know her to be unhurried in her approach so I know I can settle into the rounded characters and rich world of the Six Duchies without blinking excitement. That being said, mark my rating. I think this is an excellent introduction to the world but not so successful as a book. It strikes me as a very truncated affair as the last 50 or so pages unfold at such a whiplash-inducing speed. The seed have been planted, true, but blossomed much too quickly.

Fitz is a great, and greatly flawed--believably flawed protagonist. I challenge any reader not to empathise with him. All the characters have such clear delineations and personalities it's so frustrating how skilled Hobb is at this, because it appears easy, intuitive. But it's to this book's credit. I love the magic. I love the world. I want more and I am starting right now.

At last, I'm done. Review to come. I have a few of these to complete.

I think this book achieves it's aim: to provide an overview of humanity, how we came to be, what we've done, what we might become. Harari writes with a cool, even hand but you can see his fascination of kind of how insane it is that we are here instead of other breeds of Homo and how we've done so much in such little time.

This is perfect for the generalist who wants a nice overhead view of things but will disappoint someone who would like some really in-depth analysis. But that is beyond the capabilities of one man and the bindings of a printer so to quibble with that is to miss the point of the book entirely, as I've seen people comment.

It is not without its flaws, however. First, there are some intellectual sloppiness. For example, he makes a point about Transatlantic slavery not being motivated by racist needs. Instead, he says it's actually economic. What Harari misses is that purported "purely economic" reasoning is the underpinnings of the inherent superiority of white people over others because they saw fit to enslave selectively black people (among other non-white people) instead of the local nearby white persons which in economic terms would probably be more cost-effective. Get the white poor to do their work for them, for example. I am not advocating for that but point out the flaw in that argument. Things like that show the book's limitations. I don't think it's done in bad faith but it's almost laughable considering his in-depth knowledge of history. But he's allowed to be wrong. To expect him to be infallible is unrealistic, irrespective of his expertise.

Second, the tail-end of the book frays when it's clear that what interests him is speculation of what happens next for Sapiens. Clearly it's a set-up for what will eventually be the sequel/spiritual successor book Homo Deus . It read as if he were distracted and I was tired of the book then. What came before I enjoyed and was surprised it took me so long to read.

Otherwise, perfectly accessible and enjoyable with some legitimate insights and new information.

3.5 stars

I just realised that this is the first book of poetry I've read from start to finish. The first time I've shelved something under "poetry". So I acknowledge I come from a point of potential ignorance.

But.

My first collection was haunting and confusing. As is wont to happen in a collection of everything, not all poems are created equal. There's enough here to excite but also not everything sings.

Among my favourites were:

The eponymous poem "Crossing The Water"

A little light is filtering from the water flowers.
Their leaves do not wish us to hurry:
They are round and flat and full of dark advice.

"Face Lift"
For five days I lie in secret,
Tapped like a cask, the years draining into my pillow.
Even my best friend thinks I'm in the country.

The view from the window scene in "Parliament Hill Fields"
On this bald hill the new year hones its edge.
Faceless and pale as china
The round sky goes on minding its business.

"I Am Vertical"
It is more natural to me, lying down.
Then the sky and I are in open conversation,
And I shall be useful when I lie down finally:
Then the trees may touch me for once, and the flowers have time for me.

...among others like "Mirror" or "Insomniac".

This might be me but there's a lot of darkness and foreboding in this collection, blackness and longing for motion when there's not a lot of it, birds and violent colours. We have the privilege of perspective but there's a weight to every line Plath has put down, of struggle and sacrifice.

I enjoyed it overall, some of it's dated, some of it is a bit inscrutable for me untrained poetic mind. I think this will reveal itself in re-reads.

I'm self-aware of the fact that this seems to be the only review for this.

Bendis can write. This is clear from this volume and the fact that a familiar story can still affect me in such a way.

The presentation of Peter's issues in school and outside seem realistic and help give some depth to the character. It's a well-trodden road but still fun to read and can build on character relationships in a way that the films could never really do.

As for the art, in general it works, lots of exaggerations that help the action scenes more actiony. A little heavy on the inks for my taste, though.

Really good stuff. Check it out if you're interested in some Spidey fun.

3.75 stars

Thank you to Tor for giving me a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.

There's a lot of good going for this book but it is unfortunately hampered by some fairly sloppy writing, surprising considering this is Gwynne's fifth published book; it reads like a debut at points. But! There is a good cast and a focused narrative.

The backdrop of A Time of Dread is an ongoing conflict between an angelic race of individuals, the Ben-Elim, who are allied with humans and their demonic counterparts, the Kadoshim who are beginning to spread their influence anew after being underground for the better part of one hundred years.

Told through four perspectives, the story moves across various parts of a landmass called the Banished Lands. The voices were varied enough but I was most engaged with Drem's and Sig's, in that order. Bleda's was okay but he sort of disappeared mid-book and Riv's voice was quite inconsistent, her decisions sometimes frustrating. The worldbuilding was quite spare as well. Not a lot of ground was covered but in terms of history and setting, it was mostly related to the previous series and recapping the events of that more than anything. I can tell there's a lot more interesting world but Gwynne doesn't seem to be interested in it. Again, I do appreciate keeping the POV count down. It helped the narrative stay focused and definitely helped the speedier pace in the latter half, especially as they start to intersect.

The plot is quite compelling and has some pretty decent twists but it's a slow-burn for such a small book (by fantasy standards) so that's part of the reason why it can't achieve greater marks. What is there had me slapping my mouth a few times, with a few raised eyebrows. The cast is solid and enjoyable, not overly complex but interesting enough.

Also, the writing! It was strangely uneven. In parts, it was quite nicely descriptive and economical, immersing you in the scenes and the characters, and in other places it was like Writing 101 ("Riv felt angry", "Drem felt cold"). It was often enough to draw me out of the experience sometimes and soured some of the better scenes of the book.

The latter half is the best part, especially Sig and Drem's parts, with Riv's having a good number of twists but it was uneven because it happened in quick succession with not enough early set-up. I'm left with a lot of questions but I suppose it is a series so I'll likely be returning but I won't be in a hurry.

A mixed, but ultimately very readable, bag.

Bonus points for having a cast of characters in the front of the book. Honestly it helped keep track of the characters. It's not necessary but it's a nice thing more fantasy books should adopt. (Looking to you, Brandon Sanderson!)

One of my favourites. Review to come.

EDIT: Review of 2018 read

This is an almost companion piece to one of my favourite all time novels, [b:Norwegian Wood|11297|Norwegian Wood|Haruki Murakami|https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1386924361s/11297.jpg|2956680]Norwegian Wood. The comparisons are not made emptily: Eiji is a 19-year-old adrift, just like Murakami's Toru. Both of them turn 20 throughout their coming-of-age tales, and both books are named after Beatles songs. But to say that number9dream is a copy of Norwegian Wood would be a disservice to the skill and originality of Mitchell's second book. Eiji, for example, is a much more active protagonist, although Tokyo and its inhabitants are larger than life and drag him along quite a bit.

I would say that this book can be summarised as a meditation on life and stories. Eiji, an imaginative youth, is in Tokyo in search of his father and gets mixed up in all sorts of madness, partly his imagination, most of it true. The book weaves through 9 different parts with as many flavours, from Blade Runner-esque cyberpunk to metafiction (which is the weakest part of the book. I understand the Message but it's still the worst part for me). 

Over the course of the book, he becomes more grounded and finds a purpose beyond the grand narratives of stories and fancies of imagination: he reckons with his past and his reality. He must write his own narrative by living his life, an important lesson: you can't do it all in your head. It's a whirlwind of imagination and of brilliant sentences: "The sun steam-irons the street through its rain-washed lens", "A single night is stuffed with minutes, but they leak out, one by one." Conveying being broke in a big city is hilariously on point as well. Longing for betterment and your goals and constantly falling short is well-realised.  I am glutton for these kinds of stories. 

Like John Lennon, Eiji is haunted by the number 9 that recurrs in various ways: the numbers of the time adding up to nine, for example, the place he is from has nine letters, the area is from is called Kyushu (Nine Provinces), etc. On my inital read-through I thought there was a significance to the nines but it's more a motif that pays homage to Lennon and I suppose I did get feverish trying to spot all the different instances across the book.

A wonderful, touching, transformative novel. 

This was a pretty entertaining book with one of my favourite kinds of thinking, what can be (perhaps reductively) summarised as "unconventional wisdom" that uses data and information to challenge prevailing notions that are enmeshed in our perception of the world. In that the book succeeds in revelations that might seem counter-intuitive to begin with, but I am scratching my head as to why I didn't rate it higher. It's interesting but shallow? I don't even know if shallow is the correct word but I did not walk away much intellectually richer for it, though neither do I regret reading it. This is a strange experience for me.