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Of all the plague themed books I have read this year, Stephen King’s [b:The Stand|149267|The Stand|Stephen King|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1213131305l/149267._SX50_.jpg|1742269] is pretty challenging to summarize. It’s a fairly long novel, with many twists and turns, ups and downs, and a meandering plot driven by a bizarre cast of characters. There were moments I really enjoyed it and others I wanted to throw the book in the trash. It felt like I was reading three different novels crammed into one, to be honest.
The first part reads largely as a survivalist pandemic novel. After a fatal error, a super plague is unleashed from a government lab and wipes out a significant portion of the population. Here the plot moves the fastest as we shift from character to character, seeing how the quick advancement of such a pandemic ultimately hits at both the individual and society level. It’s a Stephen King novel, so I don’t think it’s a spoiler to say, don’t get attached to too many of the characters. For me this was probably my favorite part of the novel, as characters are put in unprecedented, challenging situations and have to make tough choices that effect their survival and others.
The second part then reads as a pseudo-paranormal struggle between good and evil. The remaining survivors of the former United States are inundated with dreams of a mysterious dark man in Las Vegas (aka: evil) and a Godly old woman in the Midwest (aka: good). People then must make the choice of which of these figures they must travel to (with apparently no other options available in this strange, forced dichotomy). The shift from pandemic novel to this was really jarring and clunky for me. This is magnified by the fact that none of the characters are especially memorable, and the few characters of color that survived (and they are a very few) take on unfortunate stereotyped caricatures. It’s a lot of cringe over a few hundred pages.
Especially jarring, is the dark figure who is supposed to represent the ultimate evil… My experience is undoubtedly in the minority, but I first became aware of Randall Flagg as he serves as Stephen King’s antagonist in the fantasy novel [b:The Eyes of the Dragon|10611|The Eyes of the Dragon|Stephen King|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1430121758l/10611._SY75_.jpg|3083085]. Written for children, this novel’s central plot point revolves around napkins — boy do I wish I was joking — and the fact that this is how I was introduced to Flagg really made his reveal in The Stand underwhelming (if unintentionally hilarious).
The third part transitions as humanity tries to assemble a functioning form of government and society. As they do this, the ultimate showdown between good and evil looms on the horizon. Whether or not this ending is satisfying or anti-climactic, I still cannot say. Afterall, ”He laughed and laughed and laughed. Life was such a wheel that no man could stand upon it for long. And it always, at the end, came round to the same place again.”
So now as I sit here reflecting on the experience that was reading The Stand, I can’t say I loved it or hated it, there was simply so much of it that in the end these feelings all canceled each other out and left me somewhere in the middle of these reactions. I will say, I originally chose to read this book as a part of the BBC Radio 4’s "The ten books we rarely get around to reading" challenge, and while it is the third longest book on this list, it probably took me the shortest time to read. If Stephen King is good at anything, it’s making content with great “readability.” For this reason, I say give it a read and decide for yourself.
The first part reads largely as a survivalist pandemic novel. After a fatal error, a super plague is unleashed from a government lab and wipes out a significant portion of the population. Here the plot moves the fastest as we shift from character to character, seeing how the quick advancement of such a pandemic ultimately hits at both the individual and society level. It’s a Stephen King novel, so I don’t think it’s a spoiler to say, don’t get attached to too many of the characters. For me this was probably my favorite part of the novel, as characters are put in unprecedented, challenging situations and have to make tough choices that effect their survival and others.
The second part then reads as a pseudo-paranormal struggle between good and evil. The remaining survivors of the former United States are inundated with dreams of a mysterious dark man in Las Vegas (aka: evil) and a Godly old woman in the Midwest (aka: good). People then must make the choice of which of these figures they must travel to (with apparently no other options available in this strange, forced dichotomy). The shift from pandemic novel to this was really jarring and clunky for me. This is magnified by the fact that none of the characters are especially memorable, and the few characters of color that survived (and they are a very few) take on unfortunate stereotyped caricatures. It’s a lot of cringe over a few hundred pages.
Especially jarring, is the dark figure who is supposed to represent the ultimate evil… My experience is undoubtedly in the minority, but I first became aware of Randall Flagg as he serves as Stephen King’s antagonist in the fantasy novel [b:The Eyes of the Dragon|10611|The Eyes of the Dragon|Stephen King|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1430121758l/10611._SY75_.jpg|3083085]. Written for children, this novel’s central plot point revolves around napkins — boy do I wish I was joking — and the fact that this is how I was introduced to Flagg really made his reveal in The Stand underwhelming (if unintentionally hilarious).
The third part transitions as humanity tries to assemble a functioning form of government and society. As they do this, the ultimate showdown between good and evil looms on the horizon. Whether or not this ending is satisfying or anti-climactic, I still cannot say. Afterall, ”He laughed and laughed and laughed. Life was such a wheel that no man could stand upon it for long. And it always, at the end, came round to the same place again.”
So now as I sit here reflecting on the experience that was reading The Stand, I can’t say I loved it or hated it, there was simply so much of it that in the end these feelings all canceled each other out and left me somewhere in the middle of these reactions. I will say, I originally chose to read this book as a part of the BBC Radio 4’s "The ten books we rarely get around to reading" challenge, and while it is the third longest book on this list, it probably took me the shortest time to read. If Stephen King is good at anything, it’s making content with great “readability.” For this reason, I say give it a read and decide for yourself.
Continuing on with Luke Jennings’ Killing Eve series, the source material for the BBC’s television adaptation, [b:No Tomorrow|39321542|No Tomorrow (Killing Eve, #2)|Luke Jennings|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1544034354l/39321542._SY75_.jpg|60935584] is a fun, quick spy read. There are some funny moments as Eve and Villanelle continue their cat and mouse tête-à-tête, as they circle in on one another. I will say, we do learn more about The Twelve in these books (a group that is frankly more of an afterthought in the tv series) though I do prefer Eve and Villanelle’s characterizations on the show. Overall, if you are a fan of the series, this material is worth reading.
Following [b:Pillow Thoughts|32468495|Pillow Thoughts (Pillow Thoughts #1)|Courtney Peppernell|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1475674294l/32468495._SY75_.jpg|53058512] and [b:Healing the Heart|38507175|Healing the Heart (Pillow Thoughts #2)|Courtney Peppernell|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1521370787l/38507175._SY75_.jpg|60145419], [b:Mending the Mind|42785088|Mending the Mind (Pillow Thoughts, #3)|Courtney Peppernell|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1553610009l/42785088._SY75_.jpg|66544634] is the third volume in poet Courtney Peppernell’s Pillow Thoughts series. More so contained musings than freeform stream of consciousness writing, each of these volumes has offered me a great deal of cathartic reflection. Being in touch with my feelings is not something that comes easy; anything not rooted predominantly in logic is very challenging to process. For this reason, while these volumes are short (and occasionally cliché), each one continues to help me feel at peace, so I will probably keep reading them.
Now that I have read Daniel Defoe’s [b:A Journal of the Plague Year|46730|A Journal of the Plague Year|Daniel Defoe|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1593068466l/46730._SY75_.jpg|12755437] (1722), I feel inundated by two distinct sentiments. The first is relief that COVID-19 is not nearly as bad as the Bubonic plague, especially given the state of scientific advancement. The second sentiment, however, is the extreme frustration I feel knowing that people have learned little to nothing from the history of infectious disease. If anything, human history is the story of people gleefully ignoring it.
It is worth mentioning that this text exists somewhere in the ambiguous intersection of fiction and non-fiction (this style was very ‘in’ at the time, and there is an argument to be made that it never truly went out of fashion). The book centers on one person’s account of the 1665 Great Plague of London, which still did factually eliminate one quarter of the city’s population. There is a great deal of repetition as the carnage is listed in detail, again and again.
Defoe is also undeniably bitter with the spread of misinformation surrounding the infection, as this folly leads to even more layered suffering. In chaos people are apt to cling to the voices that appear the most self-assured. Thoughtful scientific inquiry that requires admission of failure as knowledge is slowly assessed — these voices will always be drowned out by a strongman charlatan who never admits to faults or defeat, especially if there is coin to be made. Disaster capitalism is nothing new.
“…the common people, who, ignorant and stupid in their reflections as they were brutishly wicked and thoughtless before, were now lead by their fright to extremes of folly: and, as I said before, that they ran to conjurers and witches, and all sorts of deceivers, to know what should become of them (who fed their fears, and kept them always alarmed and awake on purpose to delude them and pick their pockets)…”
Amidst these unfortunate listings, the book was filled with some useful insights on how to avoid spreading the plague. These helpful hints include digging graves at least 6 feet underground, identifying that body removers were in fact likely to develop the disease, those who isolated tended to survive, and the fact that incubation periods exist. The later was a hard concept for people to grasp, as they could still spread infections well before the ‘tokens,’ or gangrene spots, appeared spelling the writing on the wall.
Still, even though there was a direct positive correlation between coming into contact with the infected, the public’s inability to grasp the concept of the incubation period lead to widespread misinformation that then ultimately led to countless lives lost. In ignorance, people identified the infliction as the will of God, and in so doing removed from themselves the burden of responsibility. This, more than the infection itself, was perhaps the most challenge passage to process.
“…for none knows when or where or how they may have received the infection, or from whom. This I take to be the reason which makes so many people talk of the air being corrupted and infected, and that they need not be cautious of whom they converse with, for that the contagion was in the air. I have seen them in strange agitations and surprises on this account. ‘I have never come near any infected body’, says the disturbed person; ‘I have conversed with none but sound, healthy people, and yet I have gotten the distemper!’ ‘I am sure I am struck from Heaven’, says another, and he falls to the serious part. Again, the first goes on exclaiming, ‘I have come near no infection or any infected person; I am sure it is the air. We draw in death when we breathe, and therefore ’tis the hand of God; there is no withstanding it.’ And this at last made many people, being hardened to the danger, grow less concerned at it; and less cautious towards the latter end of the time, and when it was come to its height, than they were at first.”
Overall, this book is not exactly the most exciting read, but I feel it’s worth delving into if only to better understand human behavior in a plague context. The more things change, the more they stay the same. So it goes.
It is worth mentioning that this text exists somewhere in the ambiguous intersection of fiction and non-fiction (this style was very ‘in’ at the time, and there is an argument to be made that it never truly went out of fashion). The book centers on one person’s account of the 1665 Great Plague of London, which still did factually eliminate one quarter of the city’s population. There is a great deal of repetition as the carnage is listed in detail, again and again.
Defoe is also undeniably bitter with the spread of misinformation surrounding the infection, as this folly leads to even more layered suffering. In chaos people are apt to cling to the voices that appear the most self-assured. Thoughtful scientific inquiry that requires admission of failure as knowledge is slowly assessed — these voices will always be drowned out by a strongman charlatan who never admits to faults or defeat, especially if there is coin to be made. Disaster capitalism is nothing new.
“…the common people, who, ignorant and stupid in their reflections as they were brutishly wicked and thoughtless before, were now lead by their fright to extremes of folly: and, as I said before, that they ran to conjurers and witches, and all sorts of deceivers, to know what should become of them (who fed their fears, and kept them always alarmed and awake on purpose to delude them and pick their pockets)…”
Amidst these unfortunate listings, the book was filled with some useful insights on how to avoid spreading the plague. These helpful hints include digging graves at least 6 feet underground, identifying that body removers were in fact likely to develop the disease, those who isolated tended to survive, and the fact that incubation periods exist. The later was a hard concept for people to grasp, as they could still spread infections well before the ‘tokens,’ or gangrene spots, appeared spelling the writing on the wall.
Still, even though there was a direct positive correlation between coming into contact with the infected, the public’s inability to grasp the concept of the incubation period lead to widespread misinformation that then ultimately led to countless lives lost. In ignorance, people identified the infliction as the will of God, and in so doing removed from themselves the burden of responsibility. This, more than the infection itself, was perhaps the most challenge passage to process.
“…for none knows when or where or how they may have received the infection, or from whom. This I take to be the reason which makes so many people talk of the air being corrupted and infected, and that they need not be cautious of whom they converse with, for that the contagion was in the air. I have seen them in strange agitations and surprises on this account. ‘I have never come near any infected body’, says the disturbed person; ‘I have conversed with none but sound, healthy people, and yet I have gotten the distemper!’ ‘I am sure I am struck from Heaven’, says another, and he falls to the serious part. Again, the first goes on exclaiming, ‘I have come near no infection or any infected person; I am sure it is the air. We draw in death when we breathe, and therefore ’tis the hand of God; there is no withstanding it.’ And this at last made many people, being hardened to the danger, grow less concerned at it; and less cautious towards the latter end of the time, and when it was come to its height, than they were at first.”
Overall, this book is not exactly the most exciting read, but I feel it’s worth delving into if only to better understand human behavior in a plague context. The more things change, the more they stay the same. So it goes.
Initially I picked this book up due to a desire better understand the subject matter, and I saw the initial positive reviews. The story of Naoki Higashida writing this book as a 13-year-old wanting to share his experiences with autism, was a compelling enough reason in and of itself. In this sense, I would say that there is genuinely good information shared as pertains to this perspective. Higashida is a remarkable young man whose experience is important and needs to be shared.
That said, because of the position of the young author, I feel that a great deal of liberty was likely taken by the editor (and later on by the translators) when conveying Higashida’s words. I think this was done with nothing but the best intentions, and not done so with any nefarious desire to spread malicious falsehoods. Given my lack of knowledge on this topic, I did seek out other perspectives and saw these sentiments echoed in Sally Tisdale’s NYT review .
I’m still not sure of how I should feel about this book. On the one hand, I feel like there is an important perspective here. On the other hand, I feel like this perspective may have been inadvertently altered through the lens of the adults involved in publishing the work. It was a nagging feeling I could not ignore as I flipped from page to page. If anyone else has any thoughts, I’d genuinely like to know your own two cents on this one.
That said, because of the position of the young author, I feel that a great deal of liberty was likely taken by the editor (and later on by the translators) when conveying Higashida’s words. I think this was done with nothing but the best intentions, and not done so with any nefarious desire to spread malicious falsehoods. Given my lack of knowledge on this topic, I did seek out other perspectives and saw these sentiments echoed in Sally Tisdale’s NYT review .
I’m still not sure of how I should feel about this book. On the one hand, I feel like there is an important perspective here. On the other hand, I feel like this perspective may have been inadvertently altered through the lens of the adults involved in publishing the work. It was a nagging feeling I could not ignore as I flipped from page to page. If anyone else has any thoughts, I’d genuinely like to know your own two cents on this one.
When the world is mad, why not read about madness? That, combined with Netflix airing their new series Ratched (which is ridiculous and wonderful), was all the motivation I needed to finally read Ken Kesey’s [b:One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest|332613|One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest|Ken Kesey|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1516211014l/332613._SX50_.jpg|2100252].
While this was my first time reading the book, I had previously seen the play, as well as the 1975 film, so I was unusually familiar with the characters. Told from the perspective of patient “Chief” Bromden, the novel follows the events of Randle McMurphy’s arrival to a psychiatric hospital headed by Nurse Ratched. Much of the series sees these two figures butting heads as they vie for dominance of the psych ward. At times these fights are hilariously petty, and at others they are genuinely dire.
I feel like McMurphy antics juxtaposed to Ratched’s cold demeanor, leave many to falsely equate their battles as ones between “good” and “evil.” When the reality is, they are both objectively terrible people, and their clash is more so representative as a tug of war between “entropy” and “order.” McMurphy uses chaos to alter power structures and social dynamics to his favor, while Nurse Ratched imposes unyielding dominance to maintain her superiority. McMurphy may be kind to the Chief, earning him a softer characterization, but he does so to his own benefit — having the biggest guy on the ward endeared to you is textbook McMurphy.
At the end of the day, this is a novel filled with unreliable narrators, it takes place at a psych ward after all. For as disordered as the central cast may be, I think the central craziness of the novel comes from the psych ward itself. The state of psychiatry in the 1960’s left much to be desired. While the players on this chessboard are flawed, the established system is perhaps the greatest monster in this tale. Shock therapy, lobotomies, questionable drug treatments, and the shaming of unconventional behavior are all things that should have never been on the table to begin with, let alone options regarded as legitimate and viable treatments. Just thinking about it could drive one crazy.
Overall, this is a good story, though one that at times could overly rely on stereotypes of the era, and could have better developed more characters. This could very well be attributed of the unreliable narrator, but could also have served to better shape the plot. That aside, I think there is a reason this material keeps getting adapted, and there are some good core central ideas here worth revisiting.
Rating: 3.5 stars
While this was my first time reading the book, I had previously seen the play, as well as the 1975 film, so I was unusually familiar with the characters. Told from the perspective of patient “Chief” Bromden, the novel follows the events of Randle McMurphy’s arrival to a psychiatric hospital headed by Nurse Ratched. Much of the series sees these two figures butting heads as they vie for dominance of the psych ward. At times these fights are hilariously petty, and at others they are genuinely dire.
I feel like McMurphy antics juxtaposed to Ratched’s cold demeanor, leave many to falsely equate their battles as ones between “good” and “evil.” When the reality is, they are both objectively terrible people, and their clash is more so representative as a tug of war between “entropy” and “order.” McMurphy uses chaos to alter power structures and social dynamics to his favor, while Nurse Ratched imposes unyielding dominance to maintain her superiority. McMurphy may be kind to the Chief, earning him a softer characterization, but he does so to his own benefit — having the biggest guy on the ward endeared to you is textbook McMurphy.
At the end of the day, this is a novel filled with unreliable narrators, it takes place at a psych ward after all. For as disordered as the central cast may be, I think the central craziness of the novel comes from the psych ward itself. The state of psychiatry in the 1960’s left much to be desired. While the players on this chessboard are flawed, the established system is perhaps the greatest monster in this tale. Shock therapy, lobotomies, questionable drug treatments, and the shaming of unconventional behavior are all things that should have never been on the table to begin with, let alone options regarded as legitimate and viable treatments. Just thinking about it could drive one crazy.
Overall, this is a good story, though one that at times could overly rely on stereotypes of the era, and could have better developed more characters. This could very well be attributed of the unreliable narrator, but could also have served to better shape the plot. That aside, I think there is a reason this material keeps getting adapted, and there are some good core central ideas here worth revisiting.
Rating: 3.5 stars
True to its title, [b:No Right to Be Idle: The Invention of Disability, 1840s-1930s|30548102|No Right to Be Idle The Invention of Disability, 1840s-1930s|Sarah F. Rose|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1492888483l/30548102._SY75_.jpg|51090826] by Sarah F. Rose, researches and details exactly what it sets out to describe. Centering on the history of disability in the United States, this work follows how different economic and industrial movements impacted, directly or indirectly, the ability of people with disabilities to find and maintain employment.
Very interesting was the passage on the complicated nature of worker’s compensation and how it’s introduction inadvertently hurt people with preexisting disabilities. Also fascinating (and disturbing) is how veterans have been systematically disenfranchised even they got their disability in service to the country. African American veterans in particular were completely frozen out of opportunity.
Furthermore, intention and impact of policy did not always overlap in execution. Furthermore, this is an area where personal acts of “charity” or the openness of individual employers to hire disabled workers, really did not move the needle on the whole for disabled Americans in general. Good efforts should not be frowned on, but this is simply one of those areas where large structural change is what’s needed.
Overall, this is a great resource if you are interested in the topic.
Rating: 3.5 stars
Very interesting was the passage on the complicated nature of worker’s compensation and how it’s introduction inadvertently hurt people with preexisting disabilities. Also fascinating (and disturbing) is how veterans have been systematically disenfranchised even they got their disability in service to the country. African American veterans in particular were completely frozen out of opportunity.
Furthermore, intention and impact of policy did not always overlap in execution. Furthermore, this is an area where personal acts of “charity” or the openness of individual employers to hire disabled workers, really did not move the needle on the whole for disabled Americans in general. Good efforts should not be frowned on, but this is simply one of those areas where large structural change is what’s needed.
Overall, this is a great resource if you are interested in the topic.
Rating: 3.5 stars
The fact that Ta-Nehisi Coates is a brilliant author is a pretty universally established sentiment, so there was an understandably large amount of hype surrounding this debut novel. That said, I was quite pleased when [b:The Water Dancer|43982054|The Water Dancer|Ta-Nehisi Coates|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1549993860l/43982054._SY75_.jpg|68378686] turned out to be a great read, one where Coates translates his thoughtful prose into a meaningful and memorable story.
Centered in a fictionalized version of the Antebellum era United States, as with southern plantations of the 1800s, this story follows the events of slave owners (aka: the Quality) and the enslaved (aka: the Tasked). We see this familiar (and unfamiliar) world through the eyes of young Hiram Walker, the son of a white plantation owner and a Tasked black mother who is sold away when he was very young and who he struggles to remember. Hiram’s experience is unique in a number of ways, given his relationship with his owner, his intellectual aptitude that is shocking for people given his station, and his developing ability of conduction (the magical teleportation through waterways) that begins to take root.
I have seen people refer to this book as an entry into the cannon of magical realism, but for me I would argue that this is a work of genre fantasy that happens to take place in a vaguely realistic historical setting. Hiram’s powers of conduction are a key plot point, and his story reads like a super hero origin story. Magical realism subtly shapes historical events of the disenfranchised, but there is nothing subtle about conduction. It’s a power that is named, it’s nurtured, and it’s weaponized to fight against an oppressor. It is also through this type of fantasy genre that Coates is able to dissect the evils of slavery in a different and unique way.
“For it is not simply by slavery that you are captured, but by a kind of fraud, which paints its executors as guardians at the gate, staving off African savagery, when it is they themselves who are savages, who are Mordred, who are the Dragon, in Camelot’s clothes. And at that moment of revelation, of understanding, running is not a thought, not even as a dream, but a need, no different than the need to flee a burning house.”
I doubt specifying the genre is important to most who want to read this book, but I do think it’s important for shaping expectation. Overall, this was a great read that had me on the edge of my seat, so if Ta-Nehisi Coates decides to continue writing novels, I am here for it.
Centered in a fictionalized version of the Antebellum era United States, as with southern plantations of the 1800s, this story follows the events of slave owners (aka: the Quality) and the enslaved (aka: the Tasked). We see this familiar (and unfamiliar) world through the eyes of young Hiram Walker, the son of a white plantation owner and a Tasked black mother who is sold away when he was very young and who he struggles to remember. Hiram’s experience is unique in a number of ways, given his relationship with his owner, his intellectual aptitude that is shocking for people given his station, and his developing ability of conduction (the magical teleportation through waterways) that begins to take root.
I have seen people refer to this book as an entry into the cannon of magical realism, but for me I would argue that this is a work of genre fantasy that happens to take place in a vaguely realistic historical setting. Hiram’s powers of conduction are a key plot point, and his story reads like a super hero origin story. Magical realism subtly shapes historical events of the disenfranchised, but there is nothing subtle about conduction. It’s a power that is named, it’s nurtured, and it’s weaponized to fight against an oppressor. It is also through this type of fantasy genre that Coates is able to dissect the evils of slavery in a different and unique way.
“For it is not simply by slavery that you are captured, but by a kind of fraud, which paints its executors as guardians at the gate, staving off African savagery, when it is they themselves who are savages, who are Mordred, who are the Dragon, in Camelot’s clothes. And at that moment of revelation, of understanding, running is not a thought, not even as a dream, but a need, no different than the need to flee a burning house.”
I doubt specifying the genre is important to most who want to read this book, but I do think it’s important for shaping expectation. Overall, this was a great read that had me on the edge of my seat, so if Ta-Nehisi Coates decides to continue writing novels, I am here for it.
As a fan of both Lindsay Ellis and sci-fi, I was pretty stoked when the announcement came for her first novel [b:Axiom's End|51171377|Axiom's End (Noumena, #1)|Lindsay Ellis|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1579072263l/51171377._SY75_.jpg|72729696]. Overall, I think this is a solid debut novel that is funny and entertaining.
Taking place in 2007, we see events unfold through the eyes of Cora Sabino, a young college dropout who is inundated by a lack of direction and purpose. Her life is further complicated by her father, a whistleblower in the vein of Edward Snowden, who most desires to stick it to the Bush administration. He is estranged from his family. Her aunt also has a job that impacts her wellbeing, but to reveal this may put me in spoiler waters. In summation, her family is complicated, especially in that they have conflicting agendas. And aliens.
Similar to [b:Ready Player One|9969571|Ready Player One (Ready Player One, #1)|Ernest Cline|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1500930947l/9969571._SY75_.jpg|14863741] which is stylized by its 80s references, Axiom’s End is filled with references (though mainly from the early 2000s). At times these are fun, and at others they are distracting. The early 2000s simply do not evoke the same nostalgia as the 80s, but this is a bias on my part. If I were to describe the plot without giving too much away, I would describe this book as Arrival meets The Shape of Water.
Overall, this was an enjoyable and quick read. If any of these themes or topics are of interest to you, I would recommend this book. I am definitely looking forward to the sequel.
Rating: 3.5 stars
Taking place in 2007, we see events unfold through the eyes of Cora Sabino, a young college dropout who is inundated by a lack of direction and purpose. Her life is further complicated by her father, a whistleblower in the vein of Edward Snowden, who most desires to stick it to the Bush administration. He is estranged from his family. Her aunt also has a job that impacts her wellbeing, but to reveal this may put me in spoiler waters. In summation, her family is complicated, especially in that they have conflicting agendas. And aliens.
Similar to [b:Ready Player One|9969571|Ready Player One (Ready Player One, #1)|Ernest Cline|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1500930947l/9969571._SY75_.jpg|14863741] which is stylized by its 80s references, Axiom’s End is filled with references (though mainly from the early 2000s). At times these are fun, and at others they are distracting. The early 2000s simply do not evoke the same nostalgia as the 80s, but this is a bias on my part. If I were to describe the plot without giving too much away, I would describe this book as Arrival meets The Shape of Water.
Overall, this was an enjoyable and quick read. If any of these themes or topics are of interest to you, I would recommend this book. I am definitely looking forward to the sequel.
Rating: 3.5 stars
Whether you know him from Gay of Thrones or Queer Eye, Jonathan Van Ness has graced millions of screens with unadulterated joy and positivity. A beacon of vibrant energy, I was excited to learn more about JVN in [b:Over the Top: A Raw Journey to Self-Love|43386674|Over the Top A Raw Journey to Self-Love|Jonathan Van Ness|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1559166865l/43386674._SX50_.jpg|65274850]. As it turns out, he is just as complex and layered as the rest of us.
I will be honest, this book made me cry, like, ugly cry. The world was very cruel to a young JVN, and underneath his sunny veneer, lies a lifetime of trauma not uncommon to those of us in the LGBTQ community. What really sets JVN a part though, is his unyielding perseverance in the face of so much ugliness. I even appreciated the little touches like changing people’s names to those of Russian royalty, which was equal parts endearing and subversive. When the world is harsh, we cope by living in a full and more beautiful fantasy, and there are few that rival the world of JVN. Even then, what was most impressive was learning about the layers underneath the fantasy.
“One thing that bothers me is when people only want me to be one thing: this effervescent, gregarious majestic center-part-blow-dry cotton-candy figure-skating queen who wants to give you feedback on your eyebrows and compliment your haircut. I am that queen a lot of the time. But that’s not all of me. Sometimes I need to tweet about how we shouldn’t be lionizing Ronald Reagan when he has the blood of countless gay men on his hands… People are layered—good and bad, filled with joy and sorrow.”
This is a great read, and if you are a fan, I highly recommend reading this book. It’s just a fun and moving time to be had.
I will be honest, this book made me cry, like, ugly cry. The world was very cruel to a young JVN, and underneath his sunny veneer, lies a lifetime of trauma not uncommon to those of us in the LGBTQ community. What really sets JVN a part though, is his unyielding perseverance in the face of so much ugliness. I even appreciated the little touches like changing people’s names to those of Russian royalty, which was equal parts endearing and subversive. When the world is harsh, we cope by living in a full and more beautiful fantasy, and there are few that rival the world of JVN. Even then, what was most impressive was learning about the layers underneath the fantasy.
“One thing that bothers me is when people only want me to be one thing: this effervescent, gregarious majestic center-part-blow-dry cotton-candy figure-skating queen who wants to give you feedback on your eyebrows and compliment your haircut. I am that queen a lot of the time. But that’s not all of me. Sometimes I need to tweet about how we shouldn’t be lionizing Ronald Reagan when he has the blood of countless gay men on his hands… People are layered—good and bad, filled with joy and sorrow.”
This is a great read, and if you are a fan, I highly recommend reading this book. It’s just a fun and moving time to be had.