octavia_cade's reviews
2611 reviews

This memoir of a teenage single mother was written specifically to encourage other young women in her situation to get an education - there are resources in the back of the book to that effect. In fairness, though, for most of the book Arnoldi isn't in school at all. She's working and saving to get there, trying to escape an abusive relationship, a history of family sexual violence and neglect, homelessness, and poverty. There's a happy ending here, but there's no denying that a lot of the book is just desperately sad.

The art doesn't really do much for me, I'm afraid, but the determination and perseverance of the author makes this graphic memoir worth reading. 

I read and reviewed the four books collected here separately, so this is just for my own records. And you know what? I'm making an exception. Usually when I rate multi-volume collections, I work on an average and round up if necessary. The first three books in this series got three stars from me, but the last - The Shade of the Moon - was such irredeemable, lazy edginess that it only earned one. Under normal circumstances I might round the average of two and half stars up to three (if I'm reviewing at a place that doesn't allow half stars), but in either case I'm choosing to round down. The last volume was such an unenjoyable experience that it's soured the whole series for me. Averaging just doesn't cut it.

I liked the other books in the series, but this one just didn't do it for me. I am so over dystopian narratives that rely on sexual abuse and vicious degradation to elicit some sort of reaction. This is the low-hanging fruit of dystopian science fiction, and there's not a lot here that elevates it. It's just misery porn at this point. 

Oh no, not the Lying Cat! I'd swap the death of everyone else in this series for that, because the Lying Cat is the most entertaining of the lot by far. That's why I suspect, to be honest, that there's going to be some sort of Princess Leia trick pulled, because while cats don't normally survive open space I don't see any real point in ditching the most entertaining character when we're only ten issues into a seventy+ series. (You'll note that I am not expecting an argument that other people may find other characters more interesting. There might be the odd person, but running on the issue's theme they can hardly count.)

I thought the Leia space scene was pretty stupid, to be honest, but I'm prepared to excuse a similar stupidity here. Yes, I'm aware that's inconsistent. No, I don't care. 

I would happily read a whole series about the Lying Cat, and I say that in the full knowledge that I'd forgotten its existence. I'm working my way through this series very slowly, is what I'm saying. (No disrespect to the comic; my to-read list is just enormous and I get distracted easily.) The bounty hunter thread in this series has never really grabbed me, but this particular issue has made it enjoyable, and I hope it continues. I think it's because these particular hunters are just more appealing characters than the other hunters have been: I get the feeling that these two and the little girl could become some sort of found family, one that mirrors Marko, Alana, and Hazel, and I like the potential for reflection there. 

I've been meaning to read this for a while, so I was pleased to find it in the local library (I've just moved to a different city for work, and exploring the offerings of the local library was high on my to-do list). It's a very thoughtful, considered telling of Mock's life as a child and a teenager. As a young trans girl from a disadvantaged background - which included, at times, drug-addicted parents, homelessness, and sex work - there is a natural process of self-discovery that is complicated by a sense of instability in her family life. That family, it must be said, was in many ways supportive of Mock's transition, if not always highly-involved in it - Mock admits, in the book, that she often held her parents at arm's length on this matter, especially her father, not giving them the opportunity to be as supportive as they might have been. One can hardly blame her, though, for choosing in the end to rely primarily on herself - she had to navigate her own transition in the way she thought best, after all.

It's just a very well-written, sympathetic book. 

I have to admit that I was a little bit sceptical going into this. Spock is such a cerebral character, and this type can be challenging for many authors - especially when, given this novel is presented as a first person narrative, there's really no opportunity for the focus to shift off him. It would have been easy to overdo it, to lean into the most recognisable traits of that character and have him come across as manufactured. Instead, it's so well-balanced. Logic runs through the book, but so does compassion and the willingness to engage with emotion. It's quiet and thoughtful and considered, and it never wavers in that, even when the topic is unpleasant. The chapter dealing with Spock's forced mind-meld with Valeris, for instance, is especially good.

I really enjoyed it. 

Philip K. Dick has written some truly excellent short stories. Not many of them are collected here. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed the book - his concept-heavy shorts are nearly always thought-provoking even if I don't always warm to the characters - but there's only one here that stands out about the average, I think. That story is "The Exit Door Leads In", which I've read before in another collection from him. Perhaps the reason it stands out is the comment from Major Casals towards the end: he has been involved in the psychological testing of various candidates, and when the protagonist of the story fails on ethical grounds because of what he describes as loyalty to the Major, Casals is dumbfounded. "I am someone who insulted you and derided you," he says. "Someone who treated you like dirt." Bibleman - and what a name that is - has no answer to this, but if he'd seen some of the voters of today, well. The more things change.

Unfortunately, I should probably add that this collection is hampered by a near thirty page introduction by Dick which is one of the most tedious, self-indulgent essays I've ever read. It is by far the worst thing about the book, and I look forward to never experiencing it again. 

I've never read a novel from the UAE before, at least as far as I know, and this was an excellent one to start with. It's historical fiction, set in the 1950s, about a young woman married off to a much older man as a third wife, while in the background the demise of the pearl fishing industry takes place. There's not a great deal of the unexpected here, I have to say: Noora's actions and emotions are about what would be expected from someone in her position, as far as I can imagine anyway, not ever being in that position myself. I very much enjoyed the book but was not surprised by the plot, if that makes sense. I did appreciate, however, that Noora ultimately chose to work within the restrictions of her culture instead of running off with the love interest, which might have taken place in a lesser book. Gargash chose the more realistic path for her here, I think, and made it sympathetic and relatable.

If the plot doesn't especially stand out, however, the language is lovely. It's really beautifully written, and I gobbled it down in a single day because I just didn't want to stop reading. I don't know if Gargash has written any other novels, but if she has I want to read them. 

I have slogged my way through this long, slow trainwreck of a book, and by the end - like most observers of trainwrecks - I was fascinated. That fascination, I admit, was some time coming. I enjoyed the first half of the book, but it wasn't until Isabel was actually married to her awful husband that it really started to come together for me. And - fascination or not - I am torn in my reaction to it... or at least to Isabel, and that's essentially the same thing. I want to have sympathy for her, because she's fundamentally a tragic figure who has let her illusions ruin her life, but my perception of her, by the end, is less a person and more an aesthetic: a beautiful image of delicate misery. One might as well feel sorry for a cloud. Except that's not quite true and not quite fair, because that wanting-to-have-sympathy is undermined by my rather fatalistic opinion that she's going back to her husband and a life not much changed. I don't know if it's that she lacks gumption or that she has it in spades and directs it all to prolonging her own unhappiness.

All I do know, by the end, is that I much prefer Henrietta Stackpole and I think she's bound to have a much happier life. And like Isabel, all by her own efforts.

Finally, this edition includes a preface written by James. It is absolutely glutinous. Pacing is clearly something that has passed him by entirely.