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octavia_cade's Reviews (2.64k)
Really fascinating book that came out in the late 1970s, about the interaction between science and the political world. It's a product of its time, of course, with the bulk of the book being four contemporary case studies, but it's also indicative of a trend which, I'm sorry to say, has not seen any real change. Anyone looking at the climate denial of today, for instance, can hardly fail to see the efforts of corporations and states to discredit and get around science. The more things change...
The most effective of the case studies, and by far the most riveting, had to do with the case of the North Anna Nuclear Power Plant, and how the geological instability of the ground it was built on was variously covered up and dismissed by both the corporation building the thing, and the government regulatory body responsible for atomic safety... largely because the political drive to increase power sources (and profits) was given priority. All the case studies, it should be said, are American, and the book also has a useful introduction that provides context for the place of science in American society and politics at that point, as well as a conclusion looking at possible political sources of conflict and solution. Though it should be pointed out that not all of Ames' chapters are of business and government steamrolling science; her case study on the advent of recombinant DNA research makes it quite clear that in some cases it's scientists doing the steering, and not always with an eye to wider concerns. Anyway, the whole thing is just very readable, and very interesting.
The most effective of the case studies, and by far the most riveting, had to do with the case of the North Anna Nuclear Power Plant, and how the geological instability of the ground it was built on was variously covered up and dismissed by both the corporation building the thing, and the government regulatory body responsible for atomic safety... largely because the political drive to increase power sources (and profits) was given priority. All the case studies, it should be said, are American, and the book also has a useful introduction that provides context for the place of science in American society and politics at that point, as well as a conclusion looking at possible political sources of conflict and solution. Though it should be pointed out that not all of Ames' chapters are of business and government steamrolling science; her case study on the advent of recombinant DNA research makes it quite clear that in some cases it's scientists doing the steering, and not always with an eye to wider concerns. Anyway, the whole thing is just very readable, and very interesting.
I have a story in here ("Gone to Earth") so I am clearly biased, but still. Shimmer was one of my favourite markets - such a shame it closed down! - because of the very strong aesthetic of its stories. Often magazines have a broad range of story types, but Shimmer tended to have a strong focus on prose, curating stories for lyricism as much as for plot, which was often sad and/or horrifying. My wheelhouse, in other words... the exact type of thing I like to read and like to write. So of course I'm going to enjoy this collection, which consists of all the stories they published in 2018. While there were a very few I didn't care for, most of the stories in here were excellent. Stand-outs for me included "The Imitation Sea" by Lora Gray, "Milkteeth" by Kristi DeMeester, "Streuobstwiese" by Steve Toase, and "From the Void" by Sarah Gailey.
An excellent anthology of short stories from writers from the African diaspora. There are also several nonfiction pieces included at the end, most of which are very short, although the essay "Racism and Science Fiction" by Samuel R. Delany was one of the highlights of the book. The stories themselves frequently have, unsurprisingly, a close focus on race. Given that they cover a century of fiction writing, there's some variation in how each author grapples with this topic, although it's unfortunately clear from the results that the conflicts and issues that arise from this are sadly far from resolved.
That being said, as is the case in every anthology, there were a few stories that didn't quite work for me for one reason or another. Those few were overshadowed, however, by some really outstanding writing. No surprise to anyone, I'm sure, that Octavia E. Butler's "The Evening and the Morning and the Night" was one of the best on offer here, mixing mental health and genetics and the opportunities of healthcare in a quietly moving story of genuine power. Butler's was not the only story that really spoke to me, though. "The Woman in the Wall" by Steven Barnes was unflinching in its character work (and his prose is so smooth, I always find myself gliding through it with deep pleasure). "The Pretended" by Darryl A. Smith mixed race and robots in a really original and interesting way. I think my favourite of them all, though, was the incredible story "The Space Traders" by Derrick Bell. I'd not heard of Bell before this but I'm going to have to find more from him because this was reserved and thoughtful and absolutely, brutally convincing. I'm not going to say any more than that because I don't want to spoil it, but I was blown away (and it had endnotes! Referenced endnotes! Which warms the cockles of my nerd-academic heart...).
That being said, as is the case in every anthology, there were a few stories that didn't quite work for me for one reason or another. Those few were overshadowed, however, by some really outstanding writing. No surprise to anyone, I'm sure, that Octavia E. Butler's "The Evening and the Morning and the Night" was one of the best on offer here, mixing mental health and genetics and the opportunities of healthcare in a quietly moving story of genuine power. Butler's was not the only story that really spoke to me, though. "The Woman in the Wall" by Steven Barnes was unflinching in its character work (and his prose is so smooth, I always find myself gliding through it with deep pleasure). "The Pretended" by Darryl A. Smith mixed race and robots in a really original and interesting way. I think my favourite of them all, though, was the incredible story "The Space Traders" by Derrick Bell. I'd not heard of Bell before this but I'm going to have to find more from him because this was reserved and thoughtful and absolutely, brutally convincing. I'm not going to say any more than that because I don't want to spoil it, but I was blown away (and it had endnotes! Referenced endnotes! Which warms the cockles of my nerd-academic heart...).
Fun collection of mostly well-known stories in the history of food. They're grouped together by type - breakfast, sauces, desserts, and so on - but otherwise there's no real defining factor. They're just stories about food that the author has found interesting, and I don't mean that as denigration. (It's a perfectly fine reason for a collection, and gives the whole an appealing variety and sense of quirk.) Though it must be said the selection's not entirely down to random chance and personal liking. There are a lot of stories from England and France particularly, and while it would be interesting to see a more international focus, it's also entertaining to read about food that I'm personally very familiar with, so six of one and half a dozen of the other there. Where it does fall down a bit, on the other hand, is in the level of repetition. There's quite a lot of it, and perhaps a wider variety of dishes would have gone some way to mitigating this.
Also, I am pleased to see the credit for pavlova given to New Zealand instead of those dessert thieving reprobates across the ditch, as is right and proper.
Also, I am pleased to see the credit for pavlova given to New Zealand instead of those dessert thieving reprobates across the ditch, as is right and proper.
This is mildly interesting, but it suffers by comparison. Having just read Maeve Gilmore's memoir of life with her husband Mervyn Peake, which was just stunningly written, this appears a bit simplistic by comparison, both in subject and presentation. Sebastian Peake tries, but he doesn't have the literary skill of his parents, and I think the book, small as it is, is perhaps not as focused as it might be. It's supposed to be a memoir of life with his father - it's right in the title, after all, Growing Up With Mervyn Peake - but it felt as if the author spent more time complaining about his various schools (and justifiably so, it has to be said) than talking about his dad. And given that it's his dad that I'm interested in reading about...
Of all the reviews on the back cover of this book, a large number use the word "simple". They are referring to Stone's prose rather than his content, and I think it's an accurate descriptor. In 1946, in his role as journalist, Stone accompanied a group of Jewish displaced persons (i.e. refugees) as they travelled through Europe and into Palestine, an illegal immigration prompted both by the hideous experiences of World War 2 and the promise of a utopian homeland. A lot of what is described here are the stories of the refugees Stone meets along the way, and they are frequently so horrible that his choice to use simple language is I think the correct one, although in some places the narrative is simply too sparse for my taste.
This is, nevertheless, a strong and readable account that very quickly gives over any pretence of impartiality. Stone was himself Jewish, and came to quickly identify with the people looking for a new life and willing to endure the hardships of travel, making dangerous border crossings and being packed like sardines below the decks of chartered ships, trying to sneak through the British ships guarding the entrance to Palestine. (The British do not come across well here; Stone's first-hand experience proving deeply off-putting.) But because this book is written so thoroughly from the Jewish perspective, there's vanishingly little attention given by any of the travelers - including the author - to the people already living in Palestine. It's an enormous blind spot. On the one hand I can comprehend that perfectly: 70+ years later gives the benefit of hindsight, and the trauma of WW2 was so all-encompassing people cannot be blamed for clutching desperately at any straw that might deliver them from that environment, and the people who allowed it to happen. On the other... because the edition I read was published some 30 years after the initial printing, Stone has space to put an afterword, in which he explores the consequences of this action. It's a great deal dryer to read, but is also a lot more thoughtful, and takes genuine care to value the Palestinian perspective, and how poorly they have been treated. It goes a little way to providing balance to the book, which is still an interesting read despite its flaws.
This is, nevertheless, a strong and readable account that very quickly gives over any pretence of impartiality. Stone was himself Jewish, and came to quickly identify with the people looking for a new life and willing to endure the hardships of travel, making dangerous border crossings and being packed like sardines below the decks of chartered ships, trying to sneak through the British ships guarding the entrance to Palestine. (The British do not come across well here; Stone's first-hand experience proving deeply off-putting.) But because this book is written so thoroughly from the Jewish perspective, there's vanishingly little attention given by any of the travelers - including the author - to the people already living in Palestine. It's an enormous blind spot. On the one hand I can comprehend that perfectly: 70+ years later gives the benefit of hindsight, and the trauma of WW2 was so all-encompassing people cannot be blamed for clutching desperately at any straw that might deliver them from that environment, and the people who allowed it to happen. On the other... because the edition I read was published some 30 years after the initial printing, Stone has space to put an afterword, in which he explores the consequences of this action. It's a great deal dryer to read, but is also a lot more thoughtful, and takes genuine care to value the Palestinian perspective, and how poorly they have been treated. It goes a little way to providing balance to the book, which is still an interesting read despite its flaws.
Just come across this in a list I'm reading through and I've already read and reviewed each of the four volumes collected here, so this is basically for my own records, and backdated to when I finished the last of them. Well, when I last finished the last of them, anyway, because I've read these books a lot over the years, and I'll no doubt be reading them a lot in the future, even though I don't bother to log rereads on Goodreads.
Fantasy is one of my favourite genres, but admittedly I'm not always delighted by epic fantasy. It waffles too much and goes on too long for my taste. But every so often comes a series so good that I just don't care about the monster page count, and that's the case here. One of my absolute favourites. Gollum is such a wonderful creation - creepy little shit that he is, he's one of the great fantasy antagonists - and how both Bilbo and Frodo relate to him remains genuinely touching, I think.
Fantasy is one of my favourite genres, but admittedly I'm not always delighted by epic fantasy. It waffles too much and goes on too long for my taste. But every so often comes a series so good that I just don't care about the monster page count, and that's the case here. One of my absolute favourites. Gollum is such a wonderful creation - creepy little shit that he is, he's one of the great fantasy antagonists - and how both Bilbo and Frodo relate to him remains genuinely touching, I think.
One of the chapters in here happens to be mine, so feel free to take my rating and comments with a grain of salt, as I am hardly objective. That being said, I've just finished reading this for the first time and I can honestly say there were points where I was fascinated. Some of the ideas here will stick with me for a long time. I enjoyed that so many of the topics related to Australia and New Zealand, the latter of which is my home. I enjoyed, too, the sheer variety of those topics. From water rights to growing millet to how the lawn-mower and plough impact on our perceptions of the natural world, there was something to catch attention in all of them. (My favourite, I think, was Gareth Stanton's "Mediating the Deep: A Partial Genealogy of Media Work with Oceans and Seas".) This is an academic work, however, and the eco-critical arguments in here can be dense - and I say that in observation rather than judgement. Some of the subject matter is so compelling, however, that I hope that the other authors will one day put their work into more popular form so that more people can be exposed to it, because I think lots of them would be interested!
I don't want to say that this is derivative, entirely, although - as King's afterword states - the influence of Dracula is both immense and immediately apparent. Granted, I struggle to think of a vampire novel in which this is not the case, but I still really enjoyed it. King is always compulsively readable, and the book is extremely creepy. The vampires scratching at second floor windows will never fail to make me shudder, and I freely admit that this was the point, in the middle of the night, when I stopped reading and decided to wait for daylight before I picked the book back up again.
Where King succeeds particularly well here, I think, is in his depiction of a small town that becomes ever more isolated, and in showing just how easy it is for that isolation to go unremarked. Monster stories in general are so dependent on geography, on hunting grounds and places of easy camouflage, and I liked how both the physical and moral settings of the book underpinned this. 'Salem's Lot may be a small and isolated community, but it's also one where everyday human evil is ever-present - domestic violence, child abuse, gossip and ignorance. It's so easy for true corruption to sneak in because corruption is already embedded there, albeit in miniature.
I do find it slightly unfortunate that the main character, Ben Mears, is so overshadowed by the supporting cast. Both Mark and Father Callahan seem much stronger characters to me. Mark, in particular, seems an early rendition of Bill Denbrough, and I'm far more interested in seeing what happened offscreen to Callahan than I am in anything that actually happened to Ben throughout the book.
In an edition-specific note: apparently Goodreads lists illustrated editions separately to non-illustrated, which is slightly irritating, so I'll be cutting and pasting most of this to a non-illustrated edition directly. I read the illustrated (which wasn't really - three or four photographs in 600 pages does not count as illustrated, if you ask me) version, but a reading list I'm working my way through only lists the non-illustrated, so... Anyway, the illustrated edition includes two related-but-average-short stories, and a series of deleted scenes which reminds me of sausage-making and law more than anything else. Stick with the normal version, I'd say, where the solidity of the end isn't lessened by all that extra material.
Where King succeeds particularly well here, I think, is in his depiction of a small town that becomes ever more isolated, and in showing just how easy it is for that isolation to go unremarked. Monster stories in general are so dependent on geography, on hunting grounds and places of easy camouflage, and I liked how both the physical and moral settings of the book underpinned this. 'Salem's Lot may be a small and isolated community, but it's also one where everyday human evil is ever-present - domestic violence, child abuse, gossip and ignorance. It's so easy for true corruption to sneak in because corruption is already embedded there, albeit in miniature.
I do find it slightly unfortunate that the main character, Ben Mears, is so overshadowed by the supporting cast. Both Mark and Father Callahan seem much stronger characters to me. Mark, in particular, seems an early rendition of Bill Denbrough, and I'm far more interested in seeing what happened offscreen to Callahan than I am in anything that actually happened to Ben throughout the book.
In an edition-specific note: apparently Goodreads lists illustrated editions separately to non-illustrated, which is slightly irritating, so I'll be cutting and pasting most of this to a non-illustrated edition directly. I read the illustrated (which wasn't really - three or four photographs in 600 pages does not count as illustrated, if you ask me) version, but a reading list I'm working my way through only lists the non-illustrated, so... Anyway, the illustrated edition includes two related-but-average-short stories, and a series of deleted scenes which reminds me of sausage-making and law more than anything else. Stick with the normal version, I'd say, where the solidity of the end isn't lessened by all that extra material.
Alright, I know that this book is due out next year and it looks like time travel to have read it so early, but unfortunately such is not the case. The far less interesting explanation is that I've been assisting with the copy-editing, and I finally finished reading the last chapter today.
And you know what, I was genuinely interested. I don't have a background in early modern drama. If asked about such I would vaguely handwave and say, "Um, Shakespeare?" but there's more than that, and I was happy to read about it. The editors are looking to broaden perspectives on the subject, to investigate the ways in which early modern drama explores borderlines and crossing places, points of tension when separate worlds (or disciplines) rub up against each other. Let me give an example. Possibly the most interesting chapter in the book, by Sophie Emma Battell, looked at how language was used differently by Christian and Muslim characters in the 1630 play Renegado, by Philip Massinger... and how the playwright exploited that difference to appeal to his own (admittedly prejudiced) audience. Another super interesting chapter, this time by Aidan Norrie, looked at how child actors were used as mouthpieces to speak truth to power - a strategy which relied on them being able to get away with it because they were young and cute, essentially.
Other chapters looked at things as diverse as evolving maps and disappearing playhouses, sleep disorders and ghosts, and how actors used social networking to support themselves through financial drought. As I said, I don't have a background in this. It was all very new to me, but for the most part it was written extremely clearly, presumably so that people who aren't experts can access material written by people who are. Which is in itself a navigation of borders and treacherous places...
And you know what, I was genuinely interested. I don't have a background in early modern drama. If asked about such I would vaguely handwave and say, "Um, Shakespeare?" but there's more than that, and I was happy to read about it. The editors are looking to broaden perspectives on the subject, to investigate the ways in which early modern drama explores borderlines and crossing places, points of tension when separate worlds (or disciplines) rub up against each other. Let me give an example. Possibly the most interesting chapter in the book, by Sophie Emma Battell, looked at how language was used differently by Christian and Muslim characters in the 1630 play Renegado, by Philip Massinger... and how the playwright exploited that difference to appeal to his own (admittedly prejudiced) audience. Another super interesting chapter, this time by Aidan Norrie, looked at how child actors were used as mouthpieces to speak truth to power - a strategy which relied on them being able to get away with it because they were young and cute, essentially.
Other chapters looked at things as diverse as evolving maps and disappearing playhouses, sleep disorders and ghosts, and how actors used social networking to support themselves through financial drought. As I said, I don't have a background in this. It was all very new to me, but for the most part it was written extremely clearly, presumably so that people who aren't experts can access material written by people who are. Which is in itself a navigation of borders and treacherous places...