calarco's Reviews (760)

I think it’s safe to say that there are few dystopian novels more influential than Aldous Huxley’s [b:Brave New World|5129|Brave New World|Aldous Huxley|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1575509280l/5129._SY75_.jpg|3204877]. That said, at this point, as I have simply read so many better novels in this genre, I was mostly disappointed by this book.

The novel centers on a world where humans are artificially created and engineered to fit into set castes. Citizens are fairly comfortable with this arrangement, with their moods stabilized by the drug “soma.” People do not give birth, as this is implemented purely by the state, and citizens are encouraged to be sexually promiscuous. Monogamy, nuclear family units, religion, literature, and general free thinking are all seen as primitive and detrimental relics of an archaic past.

I feel like this set up could be really compelling, but it begins to unravel with Bernard’s dry inner-monologue before events even really take off. A cousin of mine summed up this book as a promising plot that is centered on the most boring and unmemorable character, and I’d say this assessment is pretty spot on. For someone who is supposed to be a representative of free thought, he spends most of the novel complaining without actually doing much anything of consequence. He comes off more so like the indignant teenager Holden Caulfield from [b:The Catcher in the Rye|5107|The Catcher in the Rye|J.D. Salinger|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1398034300l/5107._SY75_.jpg|3036731], than a compelling and strong lead for a dystopian sci-fi. This odd characterization left me feeling like I was reading a rough draft, more-so than a fully fleshed-out story.

I think that the most interesting part of this book, is the artificial selection and creation of human beings. Had this element been further developed, I would have probably enjoyed it much more. Other work — like Octavia Butler’s [b:Lilith's Brood|60926|Lilith's Brood (Xenogenesis, #1-3)|Octavia E. Butler|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1439247785l/60926._SY75_.jpg|3739] and [b:Seed to Harvest|60924|Seed to Harvest (Patternmaster, #1-4)|Octavia E. Butler|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1404406563l/60924._SY75_.jpg|59256] series, N.K. Jemisin’s [b:The Broken Earth Trilogy: The Fifth Season, The Obelisk Gate, The Stone Sky|38496769|The Broken Earth Trilogy The Fifth Season, The Obelisk Gate, The Stone Sky|N.K. Jemisin|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1530531199l/38496769._SX50_.jpg|60137524], Margaret Atwood’s [b:The Handmaid's Tale|38447|The Handmaid's Tale (The Handmaid's Tale, #1)|Margaret Atwood|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1578028274l/38447._SY75_.jpg|1119185], and even the 1997 film Gattaca — all explore this theme of forced selection in greater depth and with superior style.

Now, it is not lost on me that these later works might not exist without Brave New World, but I would still recommend reading [b:1984|40961427|1984|George Orwell|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1532714506l/40961427._SX50_.jpg|153313] instead if you are looking for a good, O.G. dystopian novel. Sorry, not sorry.

Roxane Gay is one of the funniest authors around. This is especially impressive, as she tends to write a great deal about injustice and trauma; that’s a tough line to walk and she just does it near effortlessly. I believe this is due to her direct, frank, and blunt honesty. Overall, [b:Bad Feminist|18813642|Bad Feminist|Roxane Gay|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1421292744l/18813642._SY75_.jpg|26563816] is a pretty solid read that I enjoyed a great deal.

Gay can at times take on a stream-of-consciousness style with short story format (as seen with [b:Hunger: A Memoir of (My) Body|26074156|Hunger A Memoir of (My) Body|Roxane Gay|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1448064366l/26074156._SY75_.jpg|42362558]) and while it does lead to a disjointed narrative flow at times, it also reflects on the authenticity of voice with which she speaks. I think this approach ultimately works really well for this collection as she delves into topics surrounding the at times polarizing topic of “feminism.”

Roxane Gay is certainly a feminist, but she acknowledges how the realities of life lead to a series of negotiations that can leave one feeling like they don’t measure up to their greater core values. People are inherently messy and cannot individually embody an entire social movement 100% of the time. All we can do is try our best. Since Gay roots this understanding in empathy for the chaotic mind, it also makes for her explorations of darker subject matters all the more fruitful.

“I learned a long time ago that life introduces young people to situations they are in no way prepared for, even good girls, lucky girls who want for nothing. Sometimes, when you least expect it, you become the girl in the woods. You lose your name because another one is forced on you. You think you are alone until you find books about girls like you. Salvation is certainly among the reasons I read. Reading and writing have always pulled me out of the darkest experiences of my life.” (145)

Reading Roxane Gay’s work certainly gives me the very catharsis that she gets from other authors’ works, and I will always be grateful to her for this.

Acting as a prequel to A Song of Ice and Fire, [b:Fire & Blood|39943621|Fire & Blood (A Targaryen History #1)|George R.R. Martin|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1532828095l/39943621._SY75_.jpg|61841009] delves into the history of the Targaryen dynasty and legacy as it shapes Westeros into what we see by the events of the main series. It is “written” as a “history” from the perspective of Maester Gyldayn as a quintessential overview of the Targaryens in Westeros.

What works for this book, is that the history is fairly interesting. If you have invested hours (and hours) of your life into the lore of this series, and this is what you find appealing, then this book will be compelling enough. The Targaryens are a fascinating family and this book covers the events of the first half of their ruling lineage, beginning with Aegon the Conqueror and ending with the Dance of Dragons civil war.

That said, what makes A Song of Ice and Fire so compelling is that it shifts between unique perspectives that expands the world in compelling ways. Fire and Blood solely exists to highlight the rule of the Targaryens while offering little to no perspective from the common folk experiencing the consequences of their rule. I feel like this focus takes away a lot of the true magic of the series, so to speak. Furthermore, the Dance of Dragons civil war being conveyed as a “history” also stripped it of potential exciting battle action scenes. These are my grievances.

Still, if you are a fan of this series, there is substance worth reading here. It’s not a top priority read, but if you find yourself missing Westeros, then this book is worth checking out while we wait the next billion years for The Winds of Winter to come out…

It has taken me what now feels like an eternity to put into words how much I love this novel. This is in large part because Hanya Yanagihara’s [b:A Little Life|22822858|A Little Life|Hanya Yanagihara|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1446469353l/22822858._SY75_.jpg|42375710] pierced through my hardened android heart in ways that few other works have ever truly affected.

This story begins with four young friends from college making a go at living in New York City. Jude is a lawyer with an enigmatic past, Willem is an actor with a gentle heart, JB is a painter who exudes extroverted energy in excess, and Malcom is an architect eternally struggling with his identity. Much of the story focuses on Jude and Willem; neither have families to return “home” to, and with this lack of social and economic security, they come to lean on one another and form a truly magical relationship.

“Wasn’t friendship its own miracle, the finding of another person who made the entire lonely world seem somehow less lonely?” (573)

As the novel meanders all the way through their lives to middle age, we see how they impact one another, for better or worse, as the decades roll by. No one’s life is without some form of trauma, and this novel has no shortage of that (it can be downright brutal at a times, fair warning). The source of the novel’s drama though, lies in how they are each able to come to terms with their respective struggles, how they are able to open up about these truths, as well as how in many ways they must remained closed off. So for as challenging as it was to read some of these passages, it always felt worth it in the end, even if different plots’ endings were not in the least bit tidy.

Seeing these characters grow over decades, it was hard not to grow attached to them, and this is a real testament to Hanya Yanagihara’s talent as a literary author. I still find myself thinking about them months after finishing the book. In particular, I feel like Jude will never truly leave me. While he suffers horrors beyond even my own imaginings, I cannot remember relating to a character more. We both live with PTSD sustained from childhood trauma, and we both live with chronic pain and physical disability that is difficult to characterize. Sometimes, having to explain pain is more painful than the pain itself.

Living in a body that you have less control over each year, is also a trauma in and of itself, as we see with Jude:

“He felt in those minutes his body’s treason, how sometimes the central, tedious struggle in his life was his unwillingness to accept that he would be betrayed by it again and again, that he could expect nothing from it and yet had to keep maintaining it. So much time, his and Andy’s, was spent trying to repair something unfixable, something that should have wound up in charred bits on a slag heap years ago. And for what? His mind, he supposed. But there was—as Andy might have said—something incredibly arrogant about that, as if he was saving a jalopy because he had a sentimental attachment to its sound system.” (141)

Trauma, both physical and psychological, is inherently messy. It can leave you feeling isolated for a number of reasons, but I think the most pressing one is that it is so excruciatingly difficult to communicate a reality to others who will never truly comprehend it unless they themselves have lived it. Even though we all want to be understood, as is human nature, no empathetic person could possibly wish this type of layered trauma on another mortal soul. More so, there are fears (both imagined and real) that if you let healthy people in, your pain will only inevitably infect and harm them. Who wants to spread misery? Jude is haunted by this daunting reality, and for all that life does to harm him, no one ever truly hurts him as much as his own self-loathing.

“For years, he couldn’t understand why this was so important to him, why it mattered to him so much, why he was always trying to argue against his own memories, to spend so much time debating the details of what had happened. And then he realized that it was because he thought that if he could convince himself that it was less awful than he remembered, then he could also convince himself that he was less damaged, that he was closer to healthy, than he feared he was.” (539)

I can personally attest that when decades of PTSD and physical trauma intersect, there is a very real and specific impact to the human spirit—fractures that never truly go away. Stained glass windows are often what I think of when reaching for an example of how to successfully build a life around such cracks. These fissures will always be there, but with the right support your life can still be filled with beauty and resonance. That said, these types of struggles are evergreen, so for all my optimism it would be disingenuous to preach that this is easy or even achievable for everyone.

Overall, if you want catharsis then this novel might not be for you, but if you want something raw and real then you’d be doing yourself a disservice to not pick up a copy. I only became aware of this book when I started working through the BBC Radio 4’s "The ten books we rarely get around to reading" challenge. While this was something I chose on a whim, this may be one of the greatest works I’ve ever read. Period.

I count my lucky stars my dad is an environmentalist hippy, because now that I’m an adult he gives me some truly great book recommendations with the latest being Naomi Klein’s [b:On Fire: The Burning Case for a Green New Deal|44055880|On Fire The Burning Case for a Green New Deal|Naomi Klein|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1563469396l/44055880._SY75_.jpg|68193240]. This is a collection of essays that detail the current climate crisis and lays out an analysis of how the Green New Deal could help combat climate change. She also covers other related issues like Greta Thurnberg’s environmental activism, Pope Francis’ views on climate change, climate change’s intersection with disaster capitalism, as well as perspective on the politicization of climate change science. There’s a lot of material present in this quick read, and I would argue it’s worth picking up.

If there is one thing that really irks me when I read work on indigenous history in the United States, it is when the author makes it out like Native American people died out long ago, when the reality it there are hundreds of thousands living all over the United States today. David Treuer makes this case in [b:The Heartbeat of Wounded Knee: Native America from 1890 to the Present|36620482|The Heartbeat of Wounded Knee Native America from 1890 to the Present|David Treuer|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1513714679l/36620482._SY75_.jpg|58380027], which covers the colonial history of a number of indigenous tribes in the United States and stretches into the present-day lived experiences of contemporary indigenous people. This linking of past and present is really unique, and really well explores how past actions have present-day consequences that continue to linger and resonate. This is a great resource, and I recommend it if this is a topic you want to read more about.

Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie is one of the funniest authors I’ve read yet. Having just finished [b:Americanah|15796700|Americanah|Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1356654499l/15796700._SX50_.jpg|21519538], I immediately wanted to read more of her work and picked up a copy of [b:Dear Ijeawele, or a Feminist Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions|33585392|Dear Ijeawele, or a Feminist Manifesto in Fifteen Suggestions|Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1493035257l/33585392._SX50_.jpg|54361391] and boy was that a good choice.

She writes this series of suggestions to the newborn daughter of a friend, filled with advice on how to be not only a feminist, but a good person. Adichie’s tone is rare in that it is equal parts genuine and facetious, and I was laughing every other suggestion. It’s a short read, and I highly recommend it. If you need help deciding if it’s the read for you, I also recommend watching Adichie’s interview with Trevor Noah on The Daily Show, which is truly iconic and hilarious. It’s worth the time.

“I discovered race in America and it fascinated me.”

If I were to quickly describe Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie’s novel [b:Americanah|15796700|Americanah|Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1356654499l/15796700._SX50_.jpg|21519538], it would be as an odyssey of self-discovery, but it is so much more than that. Centering on protagonist Ifemelu, we follow her journey from Nigeria, to America, and back again. Her path intersects with Obinze, the love interest from her youth, who undergoes his own journey before one day reuniting with Ifemelu. The ending is more or less presented at the beginning, but it is the journey from start to finish that makes the stakes feel so important.

“The world was wrapped in gauze, she could see the shapes of things but not clearly enough, never enough.”

What really sets Adichie’s writing style apart as something truly noteworthy, is her use of perspective. Almost every character’s life is denoted by serious hardships and extreme luck. These elements ultimately shape very distinct world views; we can see how experience crystalizes into identity for each of these characters. People are ultimately the sum of their choices, but everyone is frustratingly limited to the choices available to them. It is the balancing act that kept me on my toes as I progressed through each page.

The best part of the novel though, is Ifemelu herself. She is smart, caring, and ridiculously funny. Obinze honestly feels like a lackluster, mere mortal compared to her. When Ifemelu comes to America, she eventually starts writing a blog that centers on her perspective as a black immigrant living in the United States. Her observations from this framework, fuel a number of great exchanges. For instance, in the middle of a dinner party conversation, Ifemulu is confronted with the argument that Barack Obama’s election as the Democratic nominee in 2008 signaled the “end of racism” in the United States. Her response is everything:

“The only reason you say that race was not an issue is because you wish it was not. We all wish is was not. But it’s a lie. I came from a country where race was not an issue; I did not think myself as black and I only became black when I came to America. When you are black in America and you fall in love with a white person, race doesn’t matter when you’re alone together because it’s just you and your love. But the minute you step outside, race matters. But we don’t talk about it. We don’t even tell our white partners small things that piss us off and the things we wish they understood better, because we’re worried they will say we’re overreacting, or we’re being too sensitive. And we don’t want them to say, Look how far we’ve come, just forty years ago it would have been illegal for us to even be a couple blah blah blah, because you know what we’re thinking when they say that? We’re thinking why the fuck should it ever have been illegal anyway? But we don’t say any of this stuff. We let it pile up inside our heads and when we come to nice liberal dinners like this, we say that race doesn’t matter because that’s what we’re supposed to say, to keep our nice liberal friends comfortable. It’s true. I speak from experience.”

I am from a mixed immigrant family, and this rant pretty much summarizes every frustration I’ve ever felt in polite company when the conversation turns to the topic of “race in America.” Overall, this book is truly great, and I am officially a huge fan of Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie. Americanah is a novel worth reading.

Rating: 4.5 stars

Quite the hot topic, Ibram X. Kendi’s [b:How to Be an Antiracist|40265832|How to Be an Antiracist|Ibram X. Kendi|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1560163756l/40265832._SY75_.jpg|62549152] is work that lives up to the hype. I think at this point it is fairly established that while “race” is a social construct, the resultant racism is very real and alive in the world today.

Kendi makes a number of thought-provoking points that he delivers with passionate prose; there were a number of passages where I felt like I was reading a sermon, albeit a secular one. His underlying thesis on the difference between being nonracist and anti-racist is where the real meat of the text lies:

“The most threatening racist movement is not the alt right’s unlikely drive for a White ethnostate but the regular American’s drive for a ‘race-neutral’ one. The construct of race neutrality actually feeds White nationalist victimhood by positing the notion that any policy protecting or advancing non-White Americans toward equity is ‘reverse discrimination.’ That is how racist power can call affirmative action policies that succeed in reducing racial inequities ‘race conscious’ and standardized tests that produce racial inequities ‘race neutral.’ That is how they can blame the behavior of entire racial groups for the inequities between different racial groups and still say their ideas are ‘not racist.’ But there is no such thing as a not-racist idea, only racist ideas and antiracist ideas.”

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. made similar observations of the dangers of notions of neutrality, and Kendi expands on this idea by differentiating between an individual and their behavior/beliefs. He demands results, and denounces what he calls a “failure doctrine.” Furthermore, he wants anti-racists to self-critique ideas within the movement. Only change within the antiracist’s past methodologies can create the change needed to bring about equitable policy and societal growth.

Change cannot happen without the humility of self-reflection. Kendi himself also struggled with assessing individuals by the impact of their actions over their intentions. While I am aware that Kendi’s divorce of bigoted behavior from identity has caused a bit of controversy, I feel that these conclusions are best summarized when he recounts how two activists he met when he was younger had transformed his own thinking on the matter:

“Patriarchal women, as a term, made no sense to me back then, like the term homophobic homosexuals. Only men can be patriarchal, can be sexist. Only heterosexuals can be homophobic. The radical black queer feminism of those two women detached homophobic from heterosexual, detached sexist from men, and feminist from women in the way I later detached racist from white people, and anti-racist from black people. They had a problem with homophobia, not heterosexuals. They had a problem with patriarchy, not with men. Crucially, they are going after all homophobes no matter their sexual identity, showed me that homophobic ideas and policy and power were their fundamental problem. Crucially, they are going after all patriarchs no matter their gender identity showed me that patriarchal ideas and policies and powers were their fundamental problem. They talked of queer people defending homophobia as powerfully as they talked about heterosexuals building a world of queer love. They talked of women defending sexism as powerfully as men building a feminist world. Maybe, they had me in mind.”

Overall, I thought this was a great read, and highly recommend it if you are interested in the topic.

Jen Manion’s [b:Female Husbands: A Trans History|51771013|Female Husbands A Trans History|Jen Manion|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1574189022l/51771013._SX50_SY75_.jpg|72140890] is truly a great piece of research on a too underexplored part of history. Focusing on cases of individuals who were born as women and then lived as men in England and the United States throughout the 1700s to the early 1900s, there is a great deal of content to unpack.

Expressions of gender and sexuality in the 1700s were something altogether different from gender and sexuality in each subsequent century. This reality in and of itself makes it challenging to ascertain motivations for trans-ing gender, let alone what past individuals’ identities actually were. A woman (or someone assigned as a woman at birth) could dress and live as a man for so many reasons beyond gender affirmation. This includes seeking economic autonomy and mobility, wanting to marry a woman in peace, and even simply not wanting to marry a man. For so much of history, a woman’s entire livelihood was linked to the man she was married to, and the circumstances of a marriage were more often an imposition than a clear choice that women were privileged enough to get to make on their own. So for so many reasons, you could see women living as men.

Manion does great work that is respectful of these vague circumstances, delves into the complicated context of these choices, and does not rely on baseless speculation. Overall, this is a great book filled with fascinating stories, and I definitely recommend it if this is a topic you want to know more about.