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Concluding Ursula K. Le Guin’s Earthsea Cycle, [b:The Other Wind|13658|The Other Wind (Earthsea Cycle, #6)|Ursula K. Le Guin|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1309285821l/13658._SY75_.jpg|215093] is a solid entry that ties up previous hanging plot lines, reconnects old characters, and further explores the balance of nature in the magical archipelago that is Earthsea.
My favorite characters of this series are easily Tenar, Ged, and Tehanu (with [b:Tehanu|13661|Tehanu (Earthsea Cycle, #4)|Ursula K. Le Guin|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1386924581l/13661._SY75_.jpg|2902890] being my favorite book of the series). Other characters were introduced that further tied the expanded Earthsea from what was gleaned in [b:Tales from Earthsea|13659|Tales from Earthsea (Earthsea Cycle, #5)|Ursula K. Le Guin|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1309202073l/13659._SY75_.jpg|65982] though my main criticism would be the story’s occasional straying in focus of the three main characters. Their unlikely family is one of the best and most thoughtful I have read in most fantasy series.
Some other interesting content provided in this volume is Le Guin’s expansion of dragons as they interrelate to humans. Most special is that her dragons often reveal more about the human condition than their cliché counterparts as antagonists in traditional fantasy novels. As events reached the end, this tale in many ways felt like a sunset—which is both the gentle ending this series deserves, but still left me with a feeling that all was inevitable—for better or for worse.
The final volume of any series is always challenging and seldom pleases, but I quite enjoyed The Other Wind and definitely recommend fully finishing this series for anyone who has come across one or more of the previous entries.
Rating: 3.5 stars
My favorite characters of this series are easily Tenar, Ged, and Tehanu (with [b:Tehanu|13661|Tehanu (Earthsea Cycle, #4)|Ursula K. Le Guin|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1386924581l/13661._SY75_.jpg|2902890] being my favorite book of the series). Other characters were introduced that further tied the expanded Earthsea from what was gleaned in [b:Tales from Earthsea|13659|Tales from Earthsea (Earthsea Cycle, #5)|Ursula K. Le Guin|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1309202073l/13659._SY75_.jpg|65982] though my main criticism would be the story’s occasional straying in focus of the three main characters. Their unlikely family is one of the best and most thoughtful I have read in most fantasy series.
Some other interesting content provided in this volume is Le Guin’s expansion of dragons as they interrelate to humans. Most special is that her dragons often reveal more about the human condition than their cliché counterparts as antagonists in traditional fantasy novels. As events reached the end, this tale in many ways felt like a sunset—which is both the gentle ending this series deserves, but still left me with a feeling that all was inevitable—for better or for worse.
The final volume of any series is always challenging and seldom pleases, but I quite enjoyed The Other Wind and definitely recommend fully finishing this series for anyone who has come across one or more of the previous entries.
Rating: 3.5 stars
Truly original in its scope, Ted Chiang’s short story collection [b:Stories of Your Life and Others|223380|Stories of Your Life and Others|Ted Chiang|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1356138316l/223380._SY75_.jpg|216334] is a really solid literary read.
What I enjoyed the most about this collection is that at the core of each story is a particular scientific or speculative concept that ultimately drives the drama and suspense of a given plot. More important, these ideas are never overpowering of (or detrimental to) character development. This is best showcased with “Liking What You See: A Documentary,” which is told from the perspective of numerous interviewees who each serve to provide unique perspectives of the facial obscuring Calli technology. Each appear in no more than a couple paragraphs, yet each feel fully distinct and developed in their short segments. This approach constitutes some of the strongest form of world-building I’ve read in a while.
Another great feature is the blending of sci-fi and spiritual themes—Chiang eloquently blurs the lines between these two elements. Often, sci-fi as a genre comments on the tenants of morality, change, and the nature of the human condition in big concept ways, but I have not read a great deal that ties in spirituality quite as well as Chiang did with this collection. This is best seen with “The Tower of Babylon” and “Hell is the Absence of God.” Each explores Western religious themes, yet they are unraveled through an inquisitive lens that pieces together the underlying mechanisms of how and why.
The titular story, “Story of Your Life,” is truly a knock-out; rarely am I excited about linguistics as a source of narrative tension, and the way Chiang interweaves this with shifting Vonnegut-esque perspective is pretty moving. Perhaps my favorite story of the collection, however, is “Understand.” While not listed as a source of inspiration, the story reminded me in several ways of [b:Flowers for Algernon|36576608|Flowers for Algernon|Daniel Keyes|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1510416245l/36576608._SY75_.jpg|3337594], though reimagined as an action film that focuses on what altered awareness would entail as an experience, in addition to its consequences. Good stuff.
Overall, The Story of Your Life and Others is a truly great book; I highly recommend it. I’ll be on the lookout for more of Ted Chiang’s work, his thoughtful writing style is truly praiseworthy.
What I enjoyed the most about this collection is that at the core of each story is a particular scientific or speculative concept that ultimately drives the drama and suspense of a given plot. More important, these ideas are never overpowering of (or detrimental to) character development. This is best showcased with “Liking What You See: A Documentary,” which is told from the perspective of numerous interviewees who each serve to provide unique perspectives of the facial obscuring Calli technology. Each appear in no more than a couple paragraphs, yet each feel fully distinct and developed in their short segments. This approach constitutes some of the strongest form of world-building I’ve read in a while.
Another great feature is the blending of sci-fi and spiritual themes—Chiang eloquently blurs the lines between these two elements. Often, sci-fi as a genre comments on the tenants of morality, change, and the nature of the human condition in big concept ways, but I have not read a great deal that ties in spirituality quite as well as Chiang did with this collection. This is best seen with “The Tower of Babylon” and “Hell is the Absence of God.” Each explores Western religious themes, yet they are unraveled through an inquisitive lens that pieces together the underlying mechanisms of how and why.
The titular story, “Story of Your Life,” is truly a knock-out; rarely am I excited about linguistics as a source of narrative tension, and the way Chiang interweaves this with shifting Vonnegut-esque perspective is pretty moving. Perhaps my favorite story of the collection, however, is “Understand.” While not listed as a source of inspiration, the story reminded me in several ways of [b:Flowers for Algernon|36576608|Flowers for Algernon|Daniel Keyes|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1510416245l/36576608._SY75_.jpg|3337594], though reimagined as an action film that focuses on what altered awareness would entail as an experience, in addition to its consequences. Good stuff.
Overall, The Story of Your Life and Others is a truly great book; I highly recommend it. I’ll be on the lookout for more of Ted Chiang’s work, his thoughtful writing style is truly praiseworthy.
Did you ever wonder what the collapse of the Roman empire would look like—but in space? Isaac Asimov sure did, and so he birthed a series of stories creating such a universe with [b:Foundation|29579|Foundation (Foundation #1)|Isaac Asimov|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1417900846l/29579._SX50_.jpg|1783981]. At times kooky and others profoundly insightful, this book is a really great read that reimagines the past in the future.
Opening in the Galactic Empire with “The Psychohistorians,” Asimov introduces the concept of psychohistory, a field that takes into account past and current data/variables to formulate patterns and mathematical theory to predict the future. While not as fully fleshed out as his concept of robotics, this was a fascinating (and not all together farfetched) idea that echoes the prophecies of oracles. In particular, it made for a good cosmic setup.
With the decline imminent, Hari Seldon sets out to compile the Encyclopedia Galactica, a universal Wikipedia of sorts that will preserve knowledge in a way to mitigate the incoming dark age (as seen following the collapse of empires). In “The Encyclopedists,” this text has come to be interpreted in a number of different ways, as seen similarly in academia, with a readily apparent split made between armchair “researchers” juxtaposed to investigative types in the field. I found the end result rather satisfying.
The following stories of “The Mayors” and “The Traders” each serve to showcase the changing norms of technology and politics of the Foundation. I found “The Mayors” to be far stronger, with the introduction of religion by the Foundation as a means of population control in lieu of a traditionally direct power grab. It in many ways reminded me to George R. R. Martin’s use of religion in A Song of Ice and Fire as a driving source for legitimate action.
“The Merchant Princes” made for a satisfying conclusion, containing some of the more interesting plot twists and a mini court drama to boot. Moreover, it ties the theoretical ideas introduced in “The Psychohistorians” to the lived, interpersonal interactions between individuals trying to survive. The key to survival requires keen observations followed up by an active response rooted in conviction—which made Mallow and his conclusions all the more interesting.
Overall, I really liked this book, though admittedly it may not be for everyone. The prose can be dry, but if you like conceptual ideas pushing plot in outer space, then I would still definitely recommend Foundation for any interested parties.
Opening in the Galactic Empire with “The Psychohistorians,” Asimov introduces the concept of psychohistory, a field that takes into account past and current data/variables to formulate patterns and mathematical theory to predict the future. While not as fully fleshed out as his concept of robotics, this was a fascinating (and not all together farfetched) idea that echoes the prophecies of oracles. In particular, it made for a good cosmic setup.
With the decline imminent, Hari Seldon sets out to compile the Encyclopedia Galactica, a universal Wikipedia of sorts that will preserve knowledge in a way to mitigate the incoming dark age (as seen following the collapse of empires). In “The Encyclopedists,” this text has come to be interpreted in a number of different ways, as seen similarly in academia, with a readily apparent split made between armchair “researchers” juxtaposed to investigative types in the field. I found the end result rather satisfying.
The following stories of “The Mayors” and “The Traders” each serve to showcase the changing norms of technology and politics of the Foundation. I found “The Mayors” to be far stronger, with the introduction of religion by the Foundation as a means of population control in lieu of a traditionally direct power grab. It in many ways reminded me to George R. R. Martin’s use of religion in A Song of Ice and Fire as a driving source for legitimate action.
“The Merchant Princes” made for a satisfying conclusion, containing some of the more interesting plot twists and a mini court drama to boot. Moreover, it ties the theoretical ideas introduced in “The Psychohistorians” to the lived, interpersonal interactions between individuals trying to survive. The key to survival requires keen observations followed up by an active response rooted in conviction—which made Mallow and his conclusions all the more interesting.
Overall, I really liked this book, though admittedly it may not be for everyone. The prose can be dry, but if you like conceptual ideas pushing plot in outer space, then I would still definitely recommend Foundation for any interested parties.
Drawing from her own life and other contemporary Indigenous perspectives, Leanne Betasamosake Simpson creates a truly moving and thought-provoking series of short stories in [b:Islands of Decolonial Love: Stories & Songs|18267582|Islands of Decolonial Love Stories & Songs|Leanne Betasamosake Simpson|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1386282869l/18267582._SY75_.jpg|25728391].
Each story (or song) is short, yet vividly captures a great deal of emotion and individual personality that feels deeply intimate. Like an archipelago of islands, characters seem lonely yet interconnected, in this case through shared culture and expectation. While largely stemming from the Nishnaabeg nation (one of Canada’s First Nations; surrounding the North American Great Lakes), many of these stories still felt familiar to the experiences of anyone with indigenous (or even mestizo) heritage—so goes the universality of historic trauma and systemic injustice.
Also present throughout this collection are themes surrounding healing. At times this entails dark humor, at others unwavering acceptance of the uncomfortable. Sometimes it’s gentle in tone and at others a guttural scream into the void. Some characters feel trapped, while others are in a constant state of motion. Still, all seem to be moving towards a type of fundamental understanding, something I found to be a truly cathartic experience.
All in all, I definitely recommend this book, and will be on the lookout for more of Leanne Betasamosake Simpson’s work. I think that if you want to be understood, you must first learn to understand others, and this collection is a remarkable work of empathy.
Each story (or song) is short, yet vividly captures a great deal of emotion and individual personality that feels deeply intimate. Like an archipelago of islands, characters seem lonely yet interconnected, in this case through shared culture and expectation. While largely stemming from the Nishnaabeg nation (one of Canada’s First Nations; surrounding the North American Great Lakes), many of these stories still felt familiar to the experiences of anyone with indigenous (or even mestizo) heritage—so goes the universality of historic trauma and systemic injustice.
Also present throughout this collection are themes surrounding healing. At times this entails dark humor, at others unwavering acceptance of the uncomfortable. Sometimes it’s gentle in tone and at others a guttural scream into the void. Some characters feel trapped, while others are in a constant state of motion. Still, all seem to be moving towards a type of fundamental understanding, something I found to be a truly cathartic experience.
All in all, I definitely recommend this book, and will be on the lookout for more of Leanne Betasamosake Simpson’s work. I think that if you want to be understood, you must first learn to understand others, and this collection is a remarkable work of empathy.
”You must remember to come back for the others. A circle, understand? You will always be Esperanza…You must remember to come back. For the ones who cannot leave as easily as you.”
This series of vignettes comprises a profile of a community surrounding the titular House on Mango Street. Moreover, focusing on the young Esperanza, it is also a coming of age story and a remarkable one given the short-lived nature of adolescence. An interesting theme that recurs is the evocation of shame and guilt when a character is unable to meet society’s (often impossible) needs. I would expand more, but given how short this book is, I would just recommend reading it and seeing for yourself. What a treat.
This series of vignettes comprises a profile of a community surrounding the titular House on Mango Street. Moreover, focusing on the young Esperanza, it is also a coming of age story and a remarkable one given the short-lived nature of adolescence. An interesting theme that recurs is the evocation of shame and guilt when a character is unable to meet society’s (often impossible) needs. I would expand more, but given how short this book is, I would just recommend reading it and seeing for yourself. What a treat.
All too often when people think of history, they tend to visualize a linear movement towards inevitable progress and equality. The reality is, sadly though, that movements of progress are often met by an angry backlash by those who benefit from (and cling to) the old status quo. In [b:White Rage: The Unspoken Truth of Our Racial Divide|26073085|White Rage The Unspoken Truth of Our Racial Divide|Carol Anderson|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1456093492l/26073085._SY75_.jpg|46010383], Dr. Carol Anderson makes the case that throughout U.S. history following the end of slavery, each African American advancement in civil rights was inevitably met by a backlash that in many cases nullified hard-fought gains.
Cutting to the chase—this is a really well-researched and well-argued book in the vein of Michelle Alexander’s [b:The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness|6792458|The New Jim Crow Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness|Michelle Alexander|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1328751532l/6792458._SX50_.jpg|6996712] or Howard Zinn’s [b:A People's History of the United States|2767|A People's History of the United States|Howard Zinn|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1494279423l/2767._SY75_.jpg|2185591]. My only critique was that I was left wanting more information, even if the content tasted of the bitter bile from America’s racist underbelly, though that is to Dr. Anderson’s credit as an effective historical storyteller. Perhaps the most important point made is that rage can be masked behind notions of respectability and racially neutral political messaging. Overall, I would definitely recommend this book.
Rating: 4.5 stars
Cutting to the chase—this is a really well-researched and well-argued book in the vein of Michelle Alexander’s [b:The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness|6792458|The New Jim Crow Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness|Michelle Alexander|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1328751532l/6792458._SX50_.jpg|6996712] or Howard Zinn’s [b:A People's History of the United States|2767|A People's History of the United States|Howard Zinn|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1494279423l/2767._SY75_.jpg|2185591]. My only critique was that I was left wanting more information, even if the content tasted of the bitter bile from America’s racist underbelly, though that is to Dr. Anderson’s credit as an effective historical storyteller. Perhaps the most important point made is that rage can be masked behind notions of respectability and racially neutral political messaging. Overall, I would definitely recommend this book.
Rating: 4.5 stars
A great cerebral thriller in more ways than one, Octavia Butler adds a solid entry to the Patternist series with [b:Mind of My Mind|116254|Mind of My Mind (Patternmaster, #2)|Octavia E. Butler|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1389676159l/116254._SY75_.jpg|111957].
While this volume occurs sequentially after [b:Wild Seed|52318|Wild Seed (Patternmaster, #1)|Octavia E. Butler|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1388462753l/52318._SY75_.jpg|1330000], yet was published several years earlier, I struggled with how to go about reading them. On the one hand, the writing for Wild Seed is objectively better (Butler only improved with time) so this earlier entry felt underdeveloped in comparison. However, by reading them in order of the Patternist timeline, I felt Mind of My Mind’s ending was more shocking and satisfying—rarely am I surprised by anything but Butler always keeps me on my toes. This is probably how I will continue to read the series, but I digress...
“Breed didn’t sound like the kind of word that should be applied to people. The minute he said it, though, I realized it was the right word for what he was doing.”
This novel opens with the 4,000-year-old Doro continuing to build his empire, one experimental child at a time. At the novel’s start we are introduced to Doro’s daughter Mary, a young biracial woman and potentially powerful telepath. She does not seem altogether different from Doro’s earlier telepaths, though everything changes when she transitions from her latent to active state. Cue further explorations of the push and pull between free will and shifting mental power dynamics with the birth of the pattern.
All in all, I should mention that this is a flawed novel, especially given how Emma (aka: Anyanwu) is sidelined and how prominent a role the uncomfortable Karl plays as events unfold. That said, I see this book as one of Butler’s earliest explorations of telepathic interconnected themes she would later explore, albeit in more refined manner, with her Xenogensis series (aka: Lilith’s Brood) and [b:Fledgling|60925|Fledgling|Octavia E. Butler|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1441479816l/60925._SY75_.jpg|59257]. So, a great deal of my enjoyment for this book came from experiencing Butler’s thought process, more than anything else.
Overall, I really enjoyed this novel and am excited to continue on with the Patternist series.
While this volume occurs sequentially after [b:Wild Seed|52318|Wild Seed (Patternmaster, #1)|Octavia E. Butler|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1388462753l/52318._SY75_.jpg|1330000], yet was published several years earlier, I struggled with how to go about reading them. On the one hand, the writing for Wild Seed is objectively better (Butler only improved with time) so this earlier entry felt underdeveloped in comparison. However, by reading them in order of the Patternist timeline, I felt Mind of My Mind’s ending was more shocking and satisfying—rarely am I surprised by anything but Butler always keeps me on my toes. This is probably how I will continue to read the series, but I digress...
“Breed didn’t sound like the kind of word that should be applied to people. The minute he said it, though, I realized it was the right word for what he was doing.”
This novel opens with the 4,000-year-old Doro continuing to build his empire, one experimental child at a time. At the novel’s start we are introduced to Doro’s daughter Mary, a young biracial woman and potentially powerful telepath. She does not seem altogether different from Doro’s earlier telepaths, though everything changes when she transitions from her latent to active state. Cue further explorations of the push and pull between free will and shifting mental power dynamics with the birth of the pattern.
All in all, I should mention that this is a flawed novel, especially given how Emma (aka: Anyanwu) is sidelined and how prominent a role the uncomfortable Karl plays as events unfold. That said, I see this book as one of Butler’s earliest explorations of telepathic interconnected themes she would later explore, albeit in more refined manner, with her Xenogensis series (aka: Lilith’s Brood) and [b:Fledgling|60925|Fledgling|Octavia E. Butler|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1441479816l/60925._SY75_.jpg|59257]. So, a great deal of my enjoyment for this book came from experiencing Butler’s thought process, more than anything else.
Overall, I really enjoyed this novel and am excited to continue on with the Patternist series.
Arriving late to the table, I was not aware of the sweet and wholesome story of the little orphan girl Anne (with an e) and her adventures in rural Prince Edward Island, but I am glad to have now had the experience of reading [b:Anne of Green Gables|8127|Anne of Green Gables (Anne of Green Gables, #1)|L.M. Montgomery|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1390789015l/8127._SY75_.jpg|3464264].
“It's been my experience that you can nearly always enjoy things if you make up your mind firmly that you will.”
Even though this was my first read of L. M. Montgomery’s series, Anne still felt very familiar. She is a willful and precious child, who has a penchant for speaking like an adult yet with the endearment of the child. Her diplomatic silver tongue would easily make her a Mary Sue if it were not for her other proclivity for awkward faux paus. Anne is smart, but she is still a child—one who experiences tragedy, makes mistakes, but still presses on nonetheless. Given her charisma, I imagine she also serves as the prototype for many future fictional young protagonists.
Perhaps my favorite element of Anne is her openness. She has the perpetual conviction of being positive, a survival mechanism of sorts, but a determination very much rooted in her desire to understand the complex world around her. It should also be noted that the tone can be saccharine at times, and I would argue that the reader ought to be in a very specific kind of mood to enjoy the book. However, if you are in that headspace, then this really does make for a very solid read that I would recommend for all ages.
“It's been my experience that you can nearly always enjoy things if you make up your mind firmly that you will.”
Even though this was my first read of L. M. Montgomery’s series, Anne still felt very familiar. She is a willful and precious child, who has a penchant for speaking like an adult yet with the endearment of the child. Her diplomatic silver tongue would easily make her a Mary Sue if it were not for her other proclivity for awkward faux paus. Anne is smart, but she is still a child—one who experiences tragedy, makes mistakes, but still presses on nonetheless. Given her charisma, I imagine she also serves as the prototype for many future fictional young protagonists.
Perhaps my favorite element of Anne is her openness. She has the perpetual conviction of being positive, a survival mechanism of sorts, but a determination very much rooted in her desire to understand the complex world around her. It should also be noted that the tone can be saccharine at times, and I would argue that the reader ought to be in a very specific kind of mood to enjoy the book. However, if you are in that headspace, then this really does make for a very solid read that I would recommend for all ages.
Noam Chomsky and Edward S. Herman present a compelling (and horrifying) case for a type of media bias they deem the “propaganda model” in Manufacturing Consent: The Political Economy of the Mass Media.
Published at the end of the Reagan era, the framework of the two authors’ argument stems largely from case studies of Cold War conflict overseas. They contend that much of the (U.S.) media coverage of U.S. involvement in Latin American, the Middle East, and most notably Vietnam, is inherently flawed due to mass-media outlets’ goal of meeting the financial lines for corporate investors. While not outright censorship, they argue media outlets will give more coverage to favorable stories of anti-communist efforts as opposed to honestly representing the stories that do not meet this narrative.
The two authors argue that while within the United States we have freedom of speech granted to the press with the First Amendment, media companies and networks still need government granted licenses and franchises. This creates a type of technical dependency, then coupled with the fact that there is a great deal of overlap between the regulators and heads of (regulated) companies, which results in a bias in storytelling that allows the powerful to maintain a status quo that consolidates their control. Narratives are powerful things.
The most prominent way that this “propaganda model” manifests is seen with how the media will portray “worthy” and “unworthy” victims. Specifically, “worthy” victims would comprise Americans and our allies who would receive humanizing, front-page coverage, whereas “unworthy” victims are those of communist states (the other) who receive little humanization and marginal coverage. Within the context of the Cold War period where the us and them mentality was what defined the zeitgeist, Chomsky and Herman denote these two distinct categories. My only critique would be with the rigidity of this dichotomy; I believe Chomsky and Herman have identified something significant, but I find it more constructive to consider the “unworthy” and “worthy” as two ends of a spectrum.
Overall, Chomsky and Herman lay out a well-researched argument. While I do agree that corporate interests would fall into the bias of a “propaganda model,” and that the powerful certainly assert a hegemony from the top down, I still took this model to be indicative of a bias (albeit a destructive one) rather than a sweeping conspiracy. Systems can be flawed, but I do believe there are good investigative reporters out there else we would have never had anything like the Watergate (1972) coverage or even the Harvey Weinstein (2017) illuminations.
All things considered, Manufacturing Consent: The Political Economy of the Mass Media is most definitely worth reading. It’s provocative food for thought; I know I’ll be thinking about it for quite some time to come.
Published at the end of the Reagan era, the framework of the two authors’ argument stems largely from case studies of Cold War conflict overseas. They contend that much of the (U.S.) media coverage of U.S. involvement in Latin American, the Middle East, and most notably Vietnam, is inherently flawed due to mass-media outlets’ goal of meeting the financial lines for corporate investors. While not outright censorship, they argue media outlets will give more coverage to favorable stories of anti-communist efforts as opposed to honestly representing the stories that do not meet this narrative.
The two authors argue that while within the United States we have freedom of speech granted to the press with the First Amendment, media companies and networks still need government granted licenses and franchises. This creates a type of technical dependency, then coupled with the fact that there is a great deal of overlap between the regulators and heads of (regulated) companies, which results in a bias in storytelling that allows the powerful to maintain a status quo that consolidates their control. Narratives are powerful things.
The most prominent way that this “propaganda model” manifests is seen with how the media will portray “worthy” and “unworthy” victims. Specifically, “worthy” victims would comprise Americans and our allies who would receive humanizing, front-page coverage, whereas “unworthy” victims are those of communist states (the other) who receive little humanization and marginal coverage. Within the context of the Cold War period where the us and them mentality was what defined the zeitgeist, Chomsky and Herman denote these two distinct categories. My only critique would be with the rigidity of this dichotomy; I believe Chomsky and Herman have identified something significant, but I find it more constructive to consider the “unworthy” and “worthy” as two ends of a spectrum.
Overall, Chomsky and Herman lay out a well-researched argument. While I do agree that corporate interests would fall into the bias of a “propaganda model,” and that the powerful certainly assert a hegemony from the top down, I still took this model to be indicative of a bias (albeit a destructive one) rather than a sweeping conspiracy. Systems can be flawed, but I do believe there are good investigative reporters out there else we would have never had anything like the Watergate (1972) coverage or even the Harvey Weinstein (2017) illuminations.
All things considered, Manufacturing Consent: The Political Economy of the Mass Media is most definitely worth reading. It’s provocative food for thought; I know I’ll be thinking about it for quite some time to come.
It is pretty hard to read something within the horror genre that has not been influenced by H. P. Lovecraft in some way, shape, or form. I’ve long struggled with how to go about reading his most influential stories, and ultimately settled on S. T. Joshi’s edition of Lovecraft’s early work originally published 1919–36, [b:The Call of Cthulhu and Other Weird Stories|160149|The Call of Cthulhu and Other Weird Stories|H.P. Lovecraft|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1320618937l/160149._SY75_.jpg|6750943].
Given the gift of hindsight, I probably should not have read these stories right before going to bed, I had some admittedly warped and trippy dreams, though I’d be lying if I said I did not enjoy the bizarre experience. There is also something validating, even cathartic, about reading well composed work that so accurately captures the feelings of detachment and depression. I found this very much to be the case with the titular ”The Call of Cthulhu”…
”The Thing cannot be described - there is no language for such abysms of shrieking and immemorial lunacy, such eldritch contradictions of all matter, force, and cosmic order. A mountain walked or stumbled.”
There were also a lot of original elements that I enjoyed in stories like ”The Rats in the Walls” and the ”The Shadow Over Innsmouth”; though I did begin to notice that the type of horror that thematically drove narrative very much stemmed from fear of the foreign other. It must be stated that these stories are definitely a byproduct of their time and contain an obscene amount of racist language and assumptions. While significantly better than other colonial era authors like Joseph Conrad or Arthur Conan Doyle (I’m full of bold claims today), there were many choices that detracted from otherwise strong work.
This volume will not be for everyone; I also found it to be uneven in quality and at times repetitive given the scope of the collection. Even today, Lovecraft is one of those polarizing figures whom people seem to either intensely love or hate. I fall between these two extremes and enjoyed the work, but would not put it on a pedestal. So, take of that what you will.
Given the gift of hindsight, I probably should not have read these stories right before going to bed, I had some admittedly warped and trippy dreams, though I’d be lying if I said I did not enjoy the bizarre experience. There is also something validating, even cathartic, about reading well composed work that so accurately captures the feelings of detachment and depression. I found this very much to be the case with the titular ”The Call of Cthulhu”…
”The Thing cannot be described - there is no language for such abysms of shrieking and immemorial lunacy, such eldritch contradictions of all matter, force, and cosmic order. A mountain walked or stumbled.”
There were also a lot of original elements that I enjoyed in stories like ”The Rats in the Walls” and the ”The Shadow Over Innsmouth”; though I did begin to notice that the type of horror that thematically drove narrative very much stemmed from fear of the foreign other. It must be stated that these stories are definitely a byproduct of their time and contain an obscene amount of racist language and assumptions. While significantly better than other colonial era authors like Joseph Conrad or Arthur Conan Doyle (I’m full of bold claims today), there were many choices that detracted from otherwise strong work.
This volume will not be for everyone; I also found it to be uneven in quality and at times repetitive given the scope of the collection. Even today, Lovecraft is one of those polarizing figures whom people seem to either intensely love or hate. I fall between these two extremes and enjoyed the work, but would not put it on a pedestal. So, take of that what you will.