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Before Total Recall, Ursula K. Le Guin penned [b:City of Illusions|201889|City of Illusions (Hainish Cycle, #3)|Ursula K. Le Guin|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1382955526l/201889._SY75_.jpg|89334]. I feel like if you enjoyed that film, there is more than likely something to enjoy with the memory altering elements of this novel. Truly, the intersection of memory and identity is endlessly fascinating to me.
The novel centers on Falk, who awakens without memory or knowledge of self; a true tabula rasa. He lives like and grows from this new adult foundling for years, eventually becoming a leader within his new community. But how can one establish roots if you do not know who you are? He sets off on a journey to better understand the Shing, and on the way he saves a young a woman from a terrorizing situation. As the two journey and grow closer, Falk's grasp on reality can feel tentative at times, further fueled by the confusion of who he might be.
Now in a book entitled City of Illusions it should surprise no one that nothing presented is quite what it seems, so I found the twists and turns of the tale to be quite interesting and entertaining. Overall, I thought this was a solid entry in the Hainish Cycle, and do recommend it.
Rating: 3.5 stars
The novel centers on Falk, who awakens without memory or knowledge of self; a true tabula rasa. He lives like and grows from this new adult foundling for years, eventually becoming a leader within his new community. But how can one establish roots if you do not know who you are? He sets off on a journey to better understand the Shing, and on the way he saves a young a woman from a terrorizing situation. As the two journey and grow closer, Falk's grasp on reality can feel tentative at times, further fueled by the confusion of who he might be.
Now in a book entitled City of Illusions it should surprise no one that nothing presented is quite what it seems, so I found the twists and turns of the tale to be quite interesting and entertaining. Overall, I thought this was a solid entry in the Hainish Cycle, and do recommend it.
Rating: 3.5 stars
As far as French gothic narratives go, you will be hard-pressed to find one as iconic as Victor Hugo’s [b:The Hunchback of Notre-Dame|30597|The Hunchback of Notre-Dame|Victor Hugo|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1388342667l/30597._SY75_.jpg|3043569]. Hard to describe, this book is so many things that encapsulates the drama at the very heart of Paris.
Growing up as a kid in the 90’s, the 1996 Disney film adaptation was my introduction to this material, and now I know it was pretty much all lies. Not unlike Sleeping Beauty, many liberties were taken to adapt the text into a family-friendly tale that could be marketed at large, and much of the dark absurdism of the original piece was lost in the process. Not to mention that this book is also wholly inappropriate for young children.
Admittedly, many of the story elements really do not hold up. This includes the representation of the “hunchback” Quasimodo, the Romani as baby snatchers, the 16-year-old Esmerelda as a naïve fool, her mother as a ragging lunatic, who are all rounded out by an additional cast of terrible, self-interested individuals. While there was certainly plenty of drama here, this story read like a slow-moving soap opera. I really did not feel invested in anyone’s outcome after all the twists and turns were done unravelling.
What is interesting and noteworthy about this novel though, is Victor Hugo’s incorporation of the Notre-Dame cathedral almost as more of a character than a setting. In general, his thoughts on the importance and resonance of architecture are infinitely more insightful than the actual plot of the book. This includes his musings that:
“…the greatest products of architecture are less the works of individuals than of society; rather the offspring of a nation’s effort, than the inspired flash of a man of genius; the deposit left by a whole people; the heaps accumulated by centuries; the residue of successive evaporations of human society – in a word, species of formations. Each wave of time contributes its alluvium, each race deposits its layer on the monument, each individual brings his stone. Thus do the beavers, thus do the bees, thus do men. The great symbol of architecture, Babel, is a hive.”
This seems to be particularly relevant with the 2019 fire that broke out at the Norte-Dame cathedral, as well as the subsequent national response. I have long felt that it is a people that give cultural meaning to any landmark, rather than vice-versa. Each generation shapes and gives life to a city and its buildings, that go beyond the artistic assembly of a stack of bricks. My New York sensibilities may be shining through here, as every building in the city has a long and complicated history (and I don’t just mean the haunted ones). So, it was fascinating to see Hugo use this premise within a crazy soap opera narrative.
He also expands on how the role of books can shape public perception about key architectural structures, somewhat breaking the fourth wall if you will:
“…which constantly superposes itself without a break, without a gap, upon the human race, which walks a monster with a thousand legs?—Architecture or printing? It is printing. Let the reader make no mistake; architecture is dead, irretrievably slain by the printed book,—slain because it endures for a shorter time,—slain because it costs more. Every cathedral represents millions…A book is so soon made, costs so little, and can go so far!...The grand poem, the grand edifice, the grand work of humanity will no longer be built: it will be printed. And henceforth, if architecture should arise again accidentally, it will no longer be mistress. It will be subservient to the law of literature, which formerly received the law from it. The respective positions of the two arts will be inverted.”
This twisted tale of how the disenfranchised are exploited and crushed by those in power, all under the eye of grand church, I think is quite telling of how grandeur means nothing if the spirituality of those worshiping inside does not represent true justice. It’s just so sad that this kinda boring story is what comes from such a promising seed of thought.
Overall, I mostly enjoyed this book and am happy that I (finally) read it. Feel free to pick up a copy and decide for yourself!
Growing up as a kid in the 90’s, the 1996 Disney film adaptation was my introduction to this material, and now I know it was pretty much all lies. Not unlike Sleeping Beauty, many liberties were taken to adapt the text into a family-friendly tale that could be marketed at large, and much of the dark absurdism of the original piece was lost in the process. Not to mention that this book is also wholly inappropriate for young children.
Admittedly, many of the story elements really do not hold up. This includes the representation of the “hunchback” Quasimodo, the Romani as baby snatchers, the 16-year-old Esmerelda as a naïve fool, her mother as a ragging lunatic, who are all rounded out by an additional cast of terrible, self-interested individuals. While there was certainly plenty of drama here, this story read like a slow-moving soap opera. I really did not feel invested in anyone’s outcome after all the twists and turns were done unravelling.
What is interesting and noteworthy about this novel though, is Victor Hugo’s incorporation of the Notre-Dame cathedral almost as more of a character than a setting. In general, his thoughts on the importance and resonance of architecture are infinitely more insightful than the actual plot of the book. This includes his musings that:
“…the greatest products of architecture are less the works of individuals than of society; rather the offspring of a nation’s effort, than the inspired flash of a man of genius; the deposit left by a whole people; the heaps accumulated by centuries; the residue of successive evaporations of human society – in a word, species of formations. Each wave of time contributes its alluvium, each race deposits its layer on the monument, each individual brings his stone. Thus do the beavers, thus do the bees, thus do men. The great symbol of architecture, Babel, is a hive.”
This seems to be particularly relevant with the 2019 fire that broke out at the Norte-Dame cathedral, as well as the subsequent national response. I have long felt that it is a people that give cultural meaning to any landmark, rather than vice-versa. Each generation shapes and gives life to a city and its buildings, that go beyond the artistic assembly of a stack of bricks. My New York sensibilities may be shining through here, as every building in the city has a long and complicated history (and I don’t just mean the haunted ones). So, it was fascinating to see Hugo use this premise within a crazy soap opera narrative.
He also expands on how the role of books can shape public perception about key architectural structures, somewhat breaking the fourth wall if you will:
“…which constantly superposes itself without a break, without a gap, upon the human race, which walks a monster with a thousand legs?—Architecture or printing? It is printing. Let the reader make no mistake; architecture is dead, irretrievably slain by the printed book,—slain because it endures for a shorter time,—slain because it costs more. Every cathedral represents millions…A book is so soon made, costs so little, and can go so far!...The grand poem, the grand edifice, the grand work of humanity will no longer be built: it will be printed. And henceforth, if architecture should arise again accidentally, it will no longer be mistress. It will be subservient to the law of literature, which formerly received the law from it. The respective positions of the two arts will be inverted.”
This twisted tale of how the disenfranchised are exploited and crushed by those in power, all under the eye of grand church, I think is quite telling of how grandeur means nothing if the spirituality of those worshiping inside does not represent true justice. It’s just so sad that this kinda boring story is what comes from such a promising seed of thought.
Overall, I mostly enjoyed this book and am happy that I (finally) read it. Feel free to pick up a copy and decide for yourself!
My go-to for what I have deemed “wholesome murder stories,” I don’t think I can now go a Christmas season now without reading an Agatha Christie book. As far as her work goes, [b:The A.B.C. Murders|16322|The A.B.C. Murders (Hercule Poirot, #13)|Agatha Christie|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1389733983l/16322._SY75_.jpg|626006] is definitely one of her best, and is filled with a bunch of fun twists.
Another entry for the beautifully mustached Hercule Poirot; he gets pulled into a case when a mysterious murderer begins claiming victims along a rail line in alphabetical order, leaving a copy of the ABC Rail Guide next to them as a calling card. Without getting into spoilery plot elements, my favorite components of this book include Poirot’s deconstruction of the murderer’s mind and ego. It is also a surprisingly good representation of mental illness and gaslighting, which is remarkably refreshing coming from the 1930s. After all, Hercule Poirot won’t be fooled by clichés when logic and reason are what dictate his very being.
This book was so fun; I absolutely recommend it!
Another entry for the beautifully mustached Hercule Poirot; he gets pulled into a case when a mysterious murderer begins claiming victims along a rail line in alphabetical order, leaving a copy of the ABC Rail Guide next to them as a calling card. Without getting into spoilery plot elements, my favorite components of this book include Poirot’s deconstruction of the murderer’s mind and ego. It is also a surprisingly good representation of mental illness and gaslighting, which is remarkably refreshing coming from the 1930s. After all, Hercule Poirot won’t be fooled by clichés when logic and reason are what dictate his very being.
This book was so fun; I absolutely recommend it!
Promoted as a twisted Kafka-esque dystopian, I was actually really excited when one of my book clubs chose [b:The Factory|43862305|The Factory|Hiroko Oyamada|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1553549171l/43862305._SY75_.jpg|68247354] for our next read. That was until I actually read the book. I hate to say it but the excitement drained quickly and the boredom set in fast as nearly nothing of interest happens. This book is so short, and follows the perspectives of three workers in a factory who each ultimately amount to anything even remotely memorable. Because I was so uninvested, by the novel’s end I couldn’t be more disinterested in the obvious twist anyone could see coming. If I had not read the similarly themed (but better written) [b:The Memory Police|37004370|The Memory Police|Yōko Ogawa|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1544335119l/37004370._SY75_.jpg|7310932] so recently, maybe I could have enjoyed this more. That said, the pacing and tone reminded me a lot of the 2002 Charlie Kaufman film Adaptation, but without the third act. If you've seen it, you know what I mean.
Arthur Miller is a brilliant narrative playwright; I think this is just a fact. I cannot believe I’ve made it this long without ever having read (or seen) [b:Death of a Salesman|12898|Death of a Salesman|Arthur Miller|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1554514105l/12898._SY75_.jpg|2722054], but this powerful story of a dysfunctional family being crushed by the harsh realities of the “American dream” could dumbfound anyone, especially given how incredibly relevant it still is 70+ years later.
Similar to how the immature and narcistic matriarch Amanda Wingfield destroys her own family in Tennessee Williams’ [b:The Glass Menagerie|92517|The Glass Menagerie|Tennessee Williams|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1391591003l/92517._SY75_.jpg|1324493], we see the deep-rooted destruction of the immature and narcistic patriarch of Willy Loman with this tale. Honestly, it was like reading into the later life of a “popular” high school bully, and as a result could not be more fascinating in premise. Willy works as a salesman to support his family, but is dissatisfied with himself, and by extension the other members of his family.
He makes selfish choices and overly relies on his charisma to make a living, and once his mind fades so too does his perceived value. I think this in and of itself is an interesting critique of capitalist driven culture—where people’s self-worth tends to be determined by their monetary success and physical ability to compete in the workforce. I don’t think it’s uncommon for anyone’s self-worth to be linked to one’s ability or success, but when it gets weighed down by the toxic myth of rugged individualism and “bootstrapping” to a path of achievement, this is when ego enters along with crushing shame when failure ultimately comes. And it does come for most everyone.
Life is not a fairytale of upward mobility, especially not in the current economic system, so I think people are often unfair to themselves (and the people they love) when they are overly hard on themselves in this way. This is not to erase the importance of personal responsibility, for the lack of this quality is what makes Willy so especially dysfunctional.
It quickly becomes apparent that Willy is suffering from some sort of depression, dementia, or likely both. As Willy unravels, we see sequences throughout his life that his mind fixates on—his highs and lows—including the moments he regrets most. As my grandfather once taught me, “woulda, coulda, shoulda’s are useless four letter words that rot the brain.” Without future options, it can be hard not to get stuck in a doom spiral, and the shame entrenched in narcissism only amplifies the injury within the individual.
Overall, this was a great play and I highly recommend it.
Similar to how the immature and narcistic matriarch Amanda Wingfield destroys her own family in Tennessee Williams’ [b:The Glass Menagerie|92517|The Glass Menagerie|Tennessee Williams|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1391591003l/92517._SY75_.jpg|1324493], we see the deep-rooted destruction of the immature and narcistic patriarch of Willy Loman with this tale. Honestly, it was like reading into the later life of a “popular” high school bully, and as a result could not be more fascinating in premise. Willy works as a salesman to support his family, but is dissatisfied with himself, and by extension the other members of his family.
He makes selfish choices and overly relies on his charisma to make a living, and once his mind fades so too does his perceived value. I think this in and of itself is an interesting critique of capitalist driven culture—where people’s self-worth tends to be determined by their monetary success and physical ability to compete in the workforce. I don’t think it’s uncommon for anyone’s self-worth to be linked to one’s ability or success, but when it gets weighed down by the toxic myth of rugged individualism and “bootstrapping” to a path of achievement, this is when ego enters along with crushing shame when failure ultimately comes. And it does come for most everyone.
Life is not a fairytale of upward mobility, especially not in the current economic system, so I think people are often unfair to themselves (and the people they love) when they are overly hard on themselves in this way. This is not to erase the importance of personal responsibility, for the lack of this quality is what makes Willy so especially dysfunctional.
It quickly becomes apparent that Willy is suffering from some sort of depression, dementia, or likely both. As Willy unravels, we see sequences throughout his life that his mind fixates on—his highs and lows—including the moments he regrets most. As my grandfather once taught me, “woulda, coulda, shoulda’s are useless four letter words that rot the brain.” Without future options, it can be hard not to get stuck in a doom spiral, and the shame entrenched in narcissism only amplifies the injury within the individual.
Overall, this was a great play and I highly recommend it.
I originally got this book as a package with [b:The Factory|43862305|The Factory|Hiroko Oyamada|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1553549171l/43862305._SY75_.jpg|68247354] for an upcoming book club read, and while [b:The Hole|51283868|The Hole|Hiroko Oyamada|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1597104641l/51283868._SY75_.jpg|41050724] is better than its predecessor, I cannot I say I liked it much when all was said and done. For a book so short, you would hope for the plot to pick up at a quicker pace. That said, even when you get to the titular "hole," and the not-so-thinly-veiled [b:Alice's Adventures in Wonderland|6324090|Alice's Adventures in Wonderland (Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, #1)|Lewis Carroll|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1391204048l/6324090._SX50_.jpg|55548884] elements, I was just too uninvested in events for interest to ever truly take off. I feel bad I did not like either of these, but it could just be personal preference.
Rating: 2.5 stars
Rating: 2.5 stars
There are few authors that know how to break a reader’s heart and mind quite like Toni Morrison. Marking the final entry of her spiritual trilogy that includes [b:Beloved|6149|Beloved|Toni Morrison|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1347984578l/6149._SY75_.jpg|736076] and [b:Jazz|37398|Jazz|Toni Morrison|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1317531331l/37398._SX50_.jpg|1135883], [b:Paradise|5198|Paradise|Toni Morrison|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1558921210l/5198._SX50_.jpg|2458248] certainly ends with a bang.
Similar to the previous two novels, Paradise opens with a tragedy. While I do feel Beloved is still the strongest of the three, with each successive novel the characters cast as victims become increasingly complex, which makes for great layered drama and escalating stakes. Furthermore, as with the previous two novels, I do not think we are meant absolve the murderers of their sins. Rather, Morrison crafts narrative to better allow for the understanding of how cycles of suffering perpetuate themselves. Trauma begets trauma; it’s a tale so old it’s downright biblical.
Taking place in Oklahoma during the 1970’s in a very small town called Ruby, we are slowly introduced to a group of troubled women living in a “convent.” In actuality, this is a building that was originally built as an embezzler’s mansion. It was later repurposed to serve as a boarding school of indigenous girls (who were stolen from their actual families to be “civilized” and forget their culture) until the last girls run away. Then, it slowly fell into disarray until it's ruins became a place for troubled people, mainly women, to come for solace and respite.
I find this setting to serve as a greater metaphor for the town of Ruby itself. There are troubled origins for the small black town in a Southern state, but with the strict adherence to religion, settlers try to “reform” their setting into a greater creation. But that said, “A cross was no better than the bearer” (154). People who look to iron out a better life for themselves at the expense or exclusion of “lesser” humans, are by no means truly virtuous. If your goodness rests on looking down on people who have culturally different values than you, then you probably aren’t such a good person, and no amount of religious righteousness is going to assuage those feelings of insecurity.
Each of the women who arrive at the convent are inherently flawed, but all they want is to live safely anew and in peace, and they are able to tentatively build such a space for themselves. While they congregate on the outskirts of town, the people in Ruby become increasingly vexed as their presence threatens the town’s rigid social structure. The women are called “witches” and “bitches,” and with their systematic dehumanization in the eyes of the angry men, so too comes demise and tragedy.
I think that the path that leads to this tension is best summarized with the following conversation:
“’...There was a whole lot of life before slavery. And we ought to know what it is. If we’re going to get rid of the slave mentality that is.’
‘You’re wrong and if that’s your field you are plowing wet. Slavery is our past. Nothing can change that, certainly not Africa.’
‘We live in the world Pat. The whole world. Separating us, isolating us—that’s always been their weapon. Isolation kills generations. It has no future.’
‘You don’t think they love their children?’
Misner stroked his upper lip and heaved a long sigh. ‘I think they love them to death.’” (210)
The past is ever present and lies not just within historic texts, but within the vitality of everyday life. I think that it’s normal to put up walls after experiencing trauma—the body keeps the score after all. Morrison presents this very real response on the societal level, I believe to demonstrate how unprocessed trauma can manifest into something even more tragic. In an effort to avoid being a victim, protective anger can morph a once well-intentioned individual into the villain. Especially if you feel emboldened by your beliefs that you are inherently superior to people who don't fit the mold.
Overall, I found this to be a fascinating meditation on generational trauma and religion. I highly recommend this and pretty much everything else I’ve ever read by Toni Morrison. She’s a genius who lives up to her hype and then some.
Similar to the previous two novels, Paradise opens with a tragedy. While I do feel Beloved is still the strongest of the three, with each successive novel the characters cast as victims become increasingly complex, which makes for great layered drama and escalating stakes. Furthermore, as with the previous two novels, I do not think we are meant absolve the murderers of their sins. Rather, Morrison crafts narrative to better allow for the understanding of how cycles of suffering perpetuate themselves. Trauma begets trauma; it’s a tale so old it’s downright biblical.
Taking place in Oklahoma during the 1970’s in a very small town called Ruby, we are slowly introduced to a group of troubled women living in a “convent.” In actuality, this is a building that was originally built as an embezzler’s mansion. It was later repurposed to serve as a boarding school of indigenous girls (who were stolen from their actual families to be “civilized” and forget their culture) until the last girls run away. Then, it slowly fell into disarray until it's ruins became a place for troubled people, mainly women, to come for solace and respite.
I find this setting to serve as a greater metaphor for the town of Ruby itself. There are troubled origins for the small black town in a Southern state, but with the strict adherence to religion, settlers try to “reform” their setting into a greater creation. But that said, “A cross was no better than the bearer” (154). People who look to iron out a better life for themselves at the expense or exclusion of “lesser” humans, are by no means truly virtuous. If your goodness rests on looking down on people who have culturally different values than you, then you probably aren’t such a good person, and no amount of religious righteousness is going to assuage those feelings of insecurity.
Each of the women who arrive at the convent are inherently flawed, but all they want is to live safely anew and in peace, and they are able to tentatively build such a space for themselves. While they congregate on the outskirts of town, the people in Ruby become increasingly vexed as their presence threatens the town’s rigid social structure. The women are called “witches” and “bitches,” and with their systematic dehumanization in the eyes of the angry men, so too comes demise and tragedy.
I think that the path that leads to this tension is best summarized with the following conversation:
“’...There was a whole lot of life before slavery. And we ought to know what it is. If we’re going to get rid of the slave mentality that is.’
‘You’re wrong and if that’s your field you are plowing wet. Slavery is our past. Nothing can change that, certainly not Africa.’
‘We live in the world Pat. The whole world. Separating us, isolating us—that’s always been their weapon. Isolation kills generations. It has no future.’
‘You don’t think they love their children?’
Misner stroked his upper lip and heaved a long sigh. ‘I think they love them to death.’” (210)
The past is ever present and lies not just within historic texts, but within the vitality of everyday life. I think that it’s normal to put up walls after experiencing trauma—the body keeps the score after all. Morrison presents this very real response on the societal level, I believe to demonstrate how unprocessed trauma can manifest into something even more tragic. In an effort to avoid being a victim, protective anger can morph a once well-intentioned individual into the villain. Especially if you feel emboldened by your beliefs that you are inherently superior to people who don't fit the mold.
Overall, I found this to be a fascinating meditation on generational trauma and religion. I highly recommend this and pretty much everything else I’ve ever read by Toni Morrison. She’s a genius who lives up to her hype and then some.
Murakami could probably write about paint drying and somehow make it interesting; he’s just that good at breathing life into the moments most would write off as mundane. [b:After Dark|17803|After Dark|Haruki Murakami|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1437952316l/17803._SY75_.jpg|3070852] is in many ways a series of such moments that alters between different characters’ points of view as they move about after dark.
Darkness itself, both as a concept and a physical entity, stars at the center of this meandering dreamlike tale. There is an excitement that sizzles at night as it punctuates moments of calm; an air of mystery that opens to new possibilities; a safety of anonymity juxtaposed to fear of obscured beasts lurking out of vision. While taking place over the course of a single night, the real change of darkness occurs within the characters this story follows as time ticks on.
Given how short this novel is, it would feel like a spoiler to delve into specific sequences, but at their root lies the idea that, “…people’s memories are maybe the fuel they burn to stay alive. Whether those memories have any actual importance or not, it doesn’t matter as far as the maintenance of life is concerned. They’re all just fuel” (161). The embers of a fire would eat up a literary classic just as well as a phonebook. All manner of moments fuels us as we exist through time.
This is a concept that I think will follow me for a while. But so long as no leering creeps manifest before me through a tv screen, it should be alright.
Darkness itself, both as a concept and a physical entity, stars at the center of this meandering dreamlike tale. There is an excitement that sizzles at night as it punctuates moments of calm; an air of mystery that opens to new possibilities; a safety of anonymity juxtaposed to fear of obscured beasts lurking out of vision. While taking place over the course of a single night, the real change of darkness occurs within the characters this story follows as time ticks on.
Given how short this novel is, it would feel like a spoiler to delve into specific sequences, but at their root lies the idea that, “…people’s memories are maybe the fuel they burn to stay alive. Whether those memories have any actual importance or not, it doesn’t matter as far as the maintenance of life is concerned. They’re all just fuel” (161). The embers of a fire would eat up a literary classic just as well as a phonebook. All manner of moments fuels us as we exist through time.
This is a concept that I think will follow me for a while. But so long as no leering creeps manifest before me through a tv screen, it should be alright.
True horror is seeing the cruelest mistakes humanity has made—environmental destruction, enslavement, and colonization—replicated in a distant future. So, if you are looking for a well-written novella on the horror and cyclical trauma of space colonization, then I have to recommend Ursula K. Le Guin’s [b:The Word for World is Forest|276767|The Word for World is Forest (Hainish Cycle, #5)|Ursula K. Le Guin|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1283091038l/276767._SY75_.jpg|3256815].
Another entry to the Hainish Cycle, this story takes place on the planet Athshe, which is covered in forests and denoted by its non-violent native inhabitants. The Terrans (aka: humans) arrive and colonize the planet, exploiting the forest for its resources and enslaving the peaceful population to do their bidding. With exploitation comes a number of horrors. One of the POV characters, Captain Davidson, a Terran commander who oversees and participates in the horrors of colonization, concludes of the native people:
“Despite the physical differences, they recognize us as members of their species, as men. However, we have not responded as members of their species, as men. We have ignored the responses, the rights and obligations of non-violence. We have killed, raped, dispersed, and enslaved the native humans, destroyed their communities, and cut down their forests. It wouldn’t be surprising if they’d decided we are not human.” (75)
We then shift to the POV of Selver, an Athshean who has endured violence by Captain Davidson himself. Davidson’s dehumanization of the natives like Selver is ultimately the psychological mechanism that perpetuates tremendous violence, and events do reach a tragic breaking point. We see as Selver and the Athsheans must embrace violence to fend off their aggressors and save themselves.
Where I do have some criticism, is in how the Athshean’s abhor violence even in cases of clear self-defense. There are good arguments made on the destructive and chaotic nature of war to any people, and I think that there are meaningful meditations made by the Athsheans on the negative effects the Terran’s have had not just with physical violence, but the impact they have had on Athshean culture. But where I do disagree is that I cannot see self-defense as "madness." Violence without cause is certainly madness, but the context matters tremendously.
Overall, this was a solid book that continues to expand the Hainish Cycle in an interesting and thought-provoking way. I look forward to reading more from Ursula K. Le Guin; her literary talent for captivation and imagination seldom fails.
Rating: 3.5 stars
Another entry to the Hainish Cycle, this story takes place on the planet Athshe, which is covered in forests and denoted by its non-violent native inhabitants. The Terrans (aka: humans) arrive and colonize the planet, exploiting the forest for its resources and enslaving the peaceful population to do their bidding. With exploitation comes a number of horrors. One of the POV characters, Captain Davidson, a Terran commander who oversees and participates in the horrors of colonization, concludes of the native people:
“Despite the physical differences, they recognize us as members of their species, as men. However, we have not responded as members of their species, as men. We have ignored the responses, the rights and obligations of non-violence. We have killed, raped, dispersed, and enslaved the native humans, destroyed their communities, and cut down their forests. It wouldn’t be surprising if they’d decided we are not human.” (75)
We then shift to the POV of Selver, an Athshean who has endured violence by Captain Davidson himself. Davidson’s dehumanization of the natives like Selver is ultimately the psychological mechanism that perpetuates tremendous violence, and events do reach a tragic breaking point. We see as Selver and the Athsheans must embrace violence to fend off their aggressors and save themselves.
Where I do have some criticism, is in how the Athshean’s abhor violence even in cases of clear self-defense. There are good arguments made on the destructive and chaotic nature of war to any people, and I think that there are meaningful meditations made by the Athsheans on the negative effects the Terran’s have had not just with physical violence, but the impact they have had on Athshean culture. But where I do disagree is that I cannot see self-defense as "madness." Violence without cause is certainly madness, but the context matters tremendously.
Overall, this was a solid book that continues to expand the Hainish Cycle in an interesting and thought-provoking way. I look forward to reading more from Ursula K. Le Guin; her literary talent for captivation and imagination seldom fails.
Rating: 3.5 stars
If you find yourself in the mood for a historical fiction that takes place in 1800s New York City, but with fantasy elements and a dash of soap opera drama, then I would have to recommend [b:The Golem and the Jinni|15819028|The Golem and the Jinni (The Golem and the Jinni, #1)|Helene Wecker|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1349205573l/15819028._SX50_.jpg|21547736].
The story opens with the creation of a golem in a Polish town; she is made to be the wife of a young Jewish immigrant bound to Manhattan. On the journey the golem is awakened at sea and finds herself masterless and alone by the time she docks in the new world and ends up at the Lower East Side. I have to say these passages were probably my favorite; I spent a couple years giving historic walking tours east of this area. It was easy to fall into this at times real, and other times fantastical setting.
Having already outlived her intended purpose after day one of being alive, the golem finds herself out of sorts until she meets a local rabbi of the community who takes her under his wing. She was made to serve and now has to completely re-envision her life’s purpose, all while still hearing the desires of other humans in her head.
As the rabbi teaches the golem how to understand and survive, he exclaims, "You must learn how to act according to what people say and do, not what they wish or fear. You have an extraordinary window into people's souls, and you'll see many ugly and uncomfortable things... You must be prepared for them, and learn when to discount them" (49). This exploration of self-determinism in a fantasy immigrant context was probably the most interesting component of this novel.
We are also introduced to the jinni. As the golem made her way from Europe, the jinni arrives in New York’s Little Syria by way of the Middle East. He cannot remember large parts of his past, but lives a relatively unencumbered and free life. His temperament is so different from the golem’s, but their drive to be genuinely understood while living among a different species is the key desire that they both share in this strange new world. Inevitably, their paths cross one day and things don’t quite happen the way you think they will.
Overall, there were parts that reminded me at times of Neil Gaiman’s [b:American Gods|30165203|American Gods (American Gods, #1)|Neil Gaiman|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1462924585l/30165203._SY75_.jpg|1970226], though the emphasis on romantic entanglements and emotional longing do make it a very different type of novel. What really drives the novel isn’t necessarily conflict, but a longing for authentic connection and understanding of one’s place in the world. How this spills into musings of religion, I also found to be really fascinating.
“Did its efficacy not prove that the Almighty was the supreme truth, the only truth? But now he saw that truths were as innumerable as falsehoods—that for sheer teeming chaos, the world of man could only be matched by the world of the divine. And as he traveled backward the Almighty shrank smaller and smaller, until He was merely another desert deity, and His commandments seemed no more than fearful demands of a jealous lover. And yet [he] had spent his entire life in terror of Him, dreading His judgement in the World to Come—a world that he would never see!” (441).
You can travel to a new continent, and even live for hundreds of years, but you can never seem to escape deep-rooted existential baggage. Overall, I thought this was a solid novel, if one with a bit of a slow start. Though by the time the pacing speeds up, I did find myself glued to the book until the very end. The characters do also make frustrating choices, but I generally find choices made on sheer reactionary emotional impulse to be frustrating. If that doesn’t bother you though, I definitely recommend this novel. I haven't read many like it.
Rating: 3.5 stars
The story opens with the creation of a golem in a Polish town; she is made to be the wife of a young Jewish immigrant bound to Manhattan. On the journey the golem is awakened at sea and finds herself masterless and alone by the time she docks in the new world and ends up at the Lower East Side. I have to say these passages were probably my favorite; I spent a couple years giving historic walking tours east of this area. It was easy to fall into this at times real, and other times fantastical setting.
Having already outlived her intended purpose after day one of being alive, the golem finds herself out of sorts until she meets a local rabbi of the community who takes her under his wing. She was made to serve and now has to completely re-envision her life’s purpose, all while still hearing the desires of other humans in her head.
As the rabbi teaches the golem how to understand and survive, he exclaims, "You must learn how to act according to what people say and do, not what they wish or fear. You have an extraordinary window into people's souls, and you'll see many ugly and uncomfortable things... You must be prepared for them, and learn when to discount them" (49). This exploration of self-determinism in a fantasy immigrant context was probably the most interesting component of this novel.
We are also introduced to the jinni. As the golem made her way from Europe, the jinni arrives in New York’s Little Syria by way of the Middle East. He cannot remember large parts of his past, but lives a relatively unencumbered and free life. His temperament is so different from the golem’s, but their drive to be genuinely understood while living among a different species is the key desire that they both share in this strange new world. Inevitably, their paths cross one day and things don’t quite happen the way you think they will.
Overall, there were parts that reminded me at times of Neil Gaiman’s [b:American Gods|30165203|American Gods (American Gods, #1)|Neil Gaiman|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1462924585l/30165203._SY75_.jpg|1970226], though the emphasis on romantic entanglements and emotional longing do make it a very different type of novel. What really drives the novel isn’t necessarily conflict, but a longing for authentic connection and understanding of one’s place in the world. How this spills into musings of religion, I also found to be really fascinating.
“Did its efficacy not prove that the Almighty was the supreme truth, the only truth? But now he saw that truths were as innumerable as falsehoods—that for sheer teeming chaos, the world of man could only be matched by the world of the divine. And as he traveled backward the Almighty shrank smaller and smaller, until He was merely another desert deity, and His commandments seemed no more than fearful demands of a jealous lover. And yet [he] had spent his entire life in terror of Him, dreading His judgement in the World to Come—a world that he would never see!” (441).
You can travel to a new continent, and even live for hundreds of years, but you can never seem to escape deep-rooted existential baggage. Overall, I thought this was a solid novel, if one with a bit of a slow start. Though by the time the pacing speeds up, I did find myself glued to the book until the very end. The characters do also make frustrating choices, but I generally find choices made on sheer reactionary emotional impulse to be frustrating. If that doesn’t bother you though, I definitely recommend this novel. I haven't read many like it.
Rating: 3.5 stars