competencefantasy's Reviews (912)

This book takes the conceit of first-person historical narration and lives into it. It is a fictionalized history, ostensibly written by Claudius, historian and emperor, as a frank account of his family history. For the actual history, Graves borrows heavily from (read takes huge chunks of interpretation from) Tacitus, a Roman historian fascinated with the power politics of the emperors. In other words, Graves had a historical source that fictionalized extremely well.

I'm something of a fan of fictional historical works, and this has everything that's needed for a great one. There are humorous digressions, cameos by well known figures, and a well-written first person voice that straddles the line between effectively reproducing the style of a historical work and being open enough to be interesting. There are also some light fantastical elements, prophecies in historical fiction works have a tendency to be true in ways the readers but not the characters will recognize.

Overall, I definitely liked it, though I'll say my interest in Germanicus ran out long before Claudius' did.

P.S. The TV version of this is pretty good too.

I absolutely love the premise and organization behind this anthology, but I'm less enthusiastic about the actual curation. While a couple of stories were very strong, a lot of the choices felt a little obvious for a collection with destroy in the title. They subverted, but in ways common enough as to be almost tropes themselves. I think I was expecting something that pushed a bit farther, but it was a pleasant addition to a few evenings all the same. I'm looking forward to the other special issues from this initiative.

Part of my job includes teaching quantum mechanics to other people, so when I find a math book that not only offers up insightful takes on mathematical concepts I'm not already nauseatingly familiar with but does so in humorous and accessible prose, I get truly excited. Not only have I enhanced my own learning, I've found a teaching example to look up to. That said, not even Ian Stewart could make me care about the biology sections.

Wow, what an amazing surprise. This stand alone fantasy novel grabs the reader and won't let go. It has a vibrant cast of characters, just large enough to fill in the fantastic plot without bogging one down in names. Each has their own motivations and personality, turning into a fully developed person by the end of the book. Furthermore, the pacing of the book is incredible fast. Though the page count was high, I read almost all of it in a single sitting and did not regret it. The author writes with a language style that is both textured and clear, whether she is describing political intrigue or a harried horseback ride.

As a modern lover of books but also a historian who prefers older history to new, I have somewhat complicated feelings about the invention of the printing press. It's difficult not to love and fear the press for its sociopolitical effects, but there's a vague wistfulness for the lost art of handwritten manuscripts. The central character of this novel experiences much the same pull, parsing it in religious and personal ways that felt very true to the time period. As he becomes more involved, whether he wants to or not, with the press, the descriptions of the art of printing take on an increasingly detailed feeling, describing a the new process in a way that is simultaneously terrible and, despite my modern misgivings, beautiful. The dramatic historical effects of movable type are ever present, but as background foreshadowing that leaves the plot itself focused on the small business, artisan, and personality of a small group of people. It is perhaps a bit mundane for the story of a book which so changed the world, but that made it feel true to me.

I loved this one. From both a plot and a characterization standpoint, the writing was fascinating. The main character was complicated but still felt human, even through the combination of science fiction and sociological concepts influencing her identity. Over the course of the book, I also developed relationships with several of the secondary characters, who are seen through the protagonist's perception of them. As the story progressed, the plot elements and emotional tension both ramped up, leading me to finish the book in only two sittings. The story also earned the distinction of being one of the few pieces of media with a revenge narrative where I felt the grief was weighty and developed enough to justify that sort of reaction. My only critique was that the imperial aspects, the premise building around the annexations, didn't always work for me. In some places it felt profound, yet in others, it seemed to rely too heavily on tropes and analogies to historical imperialism.

The book is vibrant and pretty. However there was a fair amount of text accompanying the pictures, information, anecdotes, etc. As someone with a background in both chemistry and medieval history, I found the depictions of those things I was familiar with overly reductive, nearly to the point of being wrong.

The Master of Verona is a self-contradiction of pacing. The prose and the scenes flow quickly, with vibrant characters, flashy action scenes, and a theatrical sense of drama. A single page passes more quickly than one would expect from the amount of text on it. However, the work itself is still a tome. Each scene was quick, but it felt like there were too many scenes, specifically in the second third of the book. In general I got something vaguely Shakespearean from the story, from the setting to the staging sensibilities to the this-is-how-long-already?

What an relaxing read! Food and food anecdotes make for a gentle sort of page turning, and it is evident that the book was put together by someone with great competence at writing about food. Moreover the book has a little bit of a newspaper article quality left in it, which let it draw me in deeply with no pressure. There's also an interesting commentary to be observed here about the practice of reviwing in disguise, and the effect of acting on the actor. My largest critique is that the last few chapters of the book, which deal with the winding up of the author's career at the Times, feel like downers compared to the rest of the book, which gives it an odd emotional curve after all the humorous good times.