calarco's Reviews (760)

I was very excited to read the followup novel to The Girl on the Train, and like many I was (at least initially) perplexed by the confusing narrative that came be Into the Water.

With about a dozen POV characters, many of whom are not terribly consequential to the overall revelation of "who done it," the novel took quite some time to get into. But after those first 100 pages, once you remember the characters and get a feel for the network in which they relate to one another, their significance is made more clear. More important than the specific crime(s) committed, is understanding the environment and culture of the town that quickly explains away the deaths of so many women, and comprehending the systemic misogyny that subtly clouds the judgment of nearly every character.

Men are forgiven for their character flaws, selfish choices, and generally get to live their lives unaffected emotionally by the impact of their actions. Several men even maintain moral superiority until the very end, remaining "good" in either the eyes of themselves or society. Meanwhile, a woman having even a semblance of those same character flaws, ends up dead or demonized by the town; she has it coming so-to-speak.

In a world where women are not really allowed to have complex nuances, the perversion of the "pure woman" archetype is best laid bare with the character Helen. She is a "good woman" in terms of maintaining her modesty, being a supportive caretaker, and standing by the men in her life. And because of these very things she is a pretty terrible person; the "good men" from whom she defines her own identity are violent, selfish monsters, and Helen chooses to slut-shame the women involved in their bad choices, rather than blame the men who are actually responsible for wrong-doing.

Overall, if you are looking for a character-driven thriller, this will not be the book for you. If you are open to a novel that holds a magnifying glass to the underlying circumstances that enable heinous crimes, than this narrative is pretty solid.

I read this book with as open a mind as possible and tried to leave moral relativism at the door. I still did not like it.

Mainly, I cannot help but be annoyed with the fact that the narrator is an obnoxious hypocrite. He woefully bemoans how, "out of touch with truth women are," and then contributes to that very situation at the narrative's end. Marlow also accounts that black people and white people are essentially the same, but when his black boatman is slain, he unceremoniously throws his body overboard and wonders why the other sailors found his actions distasteful. Really.

More so, it is hard to get behind the idea that living amongst different cultures in nature will bring out the darkness or horror of a human's inner psyche. Communing with nature can be sublime, and living and learning with different folks can bring out one's best traits and/or stimulate growth, if you aren't a shitty person I guess.

Ultimately, I cannot say I hate the narrative completely if only for the prose. Marlow was annoying, Kurtz was repulsive, but the delivery of this tedious narrative was good at least.

Virginia Woolf tells you what she really thinks, and it's excellent.

In this work, Woolf establishes an overview of women in literature and as authors of literature. She further provides an excellent analysis for why women are portrayed as one-dimensional and typically only referenced in relation to male characters or figures.

She explains that her argument will be, "more truth than fact," as facts at this point (early 1900s) are owned and clouded by patriarchal hegemony. Facts about women prior to the 18th century are generally hard to locate.

Woolf assesses that these systemic indifferences are rooted in women lacking inheritance and general agency to make a living for herself, hence the need for a living wage and a "room of one's own." She points out that the major female authors who created enduring works at that point, from Murakami to Jane Austen, were all women of inheritance. People cannot write if they do not have the practical resources, or the social currency to do so.

She also explores how these inequalities had persisted for so long - the need for those in power to maintain seeing others as inferior, so that they could continue to see themselves as superior. Woolf boils it down to ego. That being said, while she holds no punches in pointing out unfairness and hypocrisy, she does possess a compassion for those who have benefited from these systemic inequalities. She blames patriarchy, not individual men.

She then concludes that a balance of feminine and masculine traits, each having positive attributes, are needed to produce the best art.

Chloe liked Olivia, and I loved what Virginia Woolf had to say.

This collection is a pretty solid collection of short stories. While the book was comprised after Vonnegut's death and has no over-arching theme other than they were short stories that were not published for some reason or other, they do have a good flow.

It is fascinating how the human brain will work to make sense of the world around it. When only given a few pieces of information in a specific context, your brain will work to fill in the gaps. For example, you see a tall green triangle in the distance and can't quite make it out, but you know it's late December, so you may be inclined to assume it's a Christmas tree.

This type of 'confirmation bias,' and how it can cloud our perceptions of people, is exemplified with the narrator's story of Cassie. The fair-haired girl has a mystery about her, she is not necessarily forthcoming with her innermost thoughts, and so different people interpret who she is very differently, given the context in which they have come to know Cassie.

While the entire book is the narrator's summary of her most significant time spent with Cassie, the reader is still left not fully knowing who Cassie really is. The characters of the book do not seem to know who she is either. The people of this town are more wrapped up in the story or myth of Cassie than the reality, the same being true of the two friends who most cared about her.

This was a captivating narrative, delivered with a vivid, yet straightforward prose. Would recommend.

This book (a book in that it is technically a collection of words on paper) is a self-indulgent, soulless run-on sentence masquerading as a novel. Seriously, what a tedious, listless journey of self-entitled jerks meandering around America.

Everyone is terrible, and the main characters seem to blame their unhappiness on everyone and everything else, never taking responsibility for their own selfish, toxic, and destructive choices.

The only good thing that came of this book was King Crimson's album "Beat." Their song "Neal and Jack and me" has oodles more substance than this written garbage.

If you are looking for a good, quick, while at times silly, series of whodunits, then this collection will more than suffice. Who says murder can't be wholesome?

While the titular short "Three Blind Mice" does stand well above the others, the lot holds up as a collection. Notable Agatha Christie figures like Poirot and Marple also show up and definitely keep things interesting.

Overall, it's good fun.

Including both an overall history, as well as present-day case studies that interpret the history and culture of Native Americans, this volume is a reflection of the growing trend (and standard) amongst museums choosing to share authority with native groups to create more authentic exhibits. Overall, this is a well compiled edited volume.

A good overview of not only museum practice for Native American curation is provided, but a timeline of overall legislation that has led to the current status quo is also presented.

While case studies are provided by museum staff who have implemented collaborative programs with Native stakeholders, it would have been nice to see more Native authors represented in the volume.

This edited volume is variable and filed with numerous case studies, to say the least. These entries represent many diverse perspectives, regions, and types of historical institutions.

While the changing thematic shifts from case study to case study do not necessarily make for a smooth cohesive collection, the plethora of examples represented provides an authentic overview of the realities and complexities of interpretive projects being carried out today.

This is definitely a good read for anyone looking for information or inspiration on implementing people-driven interpretive approaches at historic sites.

The second installation of Butler's Xenogenesis series, Adulthood Rites is an interesting coming of age tale of an individual caught between not just two cultures, but two species.

This is the first Butler book I've read that is written from the perspective of a male character, which is unique in itself. Akin is definitely well-developed and has an interesting voice/perspective, but there is very little explored about his own male "human contradiction." This felt like a missed opportunity.

That said this is a Butler book, so it is very well written and exciting to read, it's just not her best compared to others.