pineconek's Reviews (816)

It's all fun and games until a book attacks what you love: lo-fi soundscapes (I know!), coffeeshop aesthetics, and even goodreads ratings. 

Filterworld reads like a thesis, but a very good one that I enjoyed reading cover to cover. The author is only a bit older than me and our memories of the internet, and how it evolved, are similar. I found the outlining of a cohesive history, from Geocities to live journal to chatrooms to tumblr to Facebook to tiktok, engrossing and familiar. 

What this book seeks to understand is recommendation algorithms. Now, I'm suspicious of a lot Big Algo, but I've always made an exception for things like the Spotify algorithm, which still does not seem nearly as harmful to me as some others out there. But the author argues that algorithmic recommendations flatten our culture, steering us towards conflating popular with good, and turning all interests ephemeral and dictated by the whims of the Algo. 

And he has a point. There's some culture-specific examples that he dissects, and argues in favor of analogue media, hand picked curation (human DJs, not AI ones), and chronological timelines (I miss those). 

It feels ironic to give a star value to a book that argues against rating and ranking media, but I'm in too deep. Here's 4.25 stars on SG, rounded down to 4 on GR. 

A short collection of gentle advice that invites us to consider: in the times of our lives where we can't do it all, what should we do? 

The heuristics of this book are not presented in a prescriptive fashion. Instead, it's a handy guide of options, ideas, and tricks for getting through terrible times because there's plenty of things we can't put on hold. It also encourages us to take a bit of pressure off ourselves: get rid of the donation bag that's sat in your closet for 3 years. Hire a cleaner if and when you can afford them to stop agonizing over the state of your bathroom. Use paper plates if dishes are a no go. That kind of thing. 

This advice isn't ideal and does not reflect how I want my best self to act. But that's the point. When we're drowning in other things, we can't be our best selves and we definitely can't guilt or shame out way into it. 

There were a few mental framings I really liked. I'm trying to adopt the thinking that every room has 5 things, and here they are in the order in which they should be attended to: 
1) trash. It needs to go. It's a health hazard.
2) dishes. Put them in the sink.
3) laundry. That's what hampers and baskets are for.
4) things that have a place but are not in their place. Bring them to their place.
5) things that don't have a place (gotta find them a place!). 

There were also examples of how to make certain tasks easier to start or schedule, how to prune away tasks when you can only function on a "essentials only" basis, and how to divorce morality from cleanliness. 

Recommended if you feel like you're never able to keep up with keeping your space clean, suffer from crushing emotions that keep you from doing what "needs" to get done, or otherwise just need to be a bit kinder to yourself. 3.75 stars on SG rounded up to 4 on GR.

Picture this: I'm sitting on the steps of the central market in Porto, a large glass of white sangria in my hand. I'm basking in the sunlight and reading Saramago as locals and tourists bustle around me. The magic of reading a (good) book by a local author while traveling envelops me. 

So yeah, that was nice. 

This is my second Saramago (after blindness), and another book in which he asks a big "what if". What if death just... Stopped reaping? What happens to those ready to die, to the funeral directors, to the clergy, to the life insurance salesmen? I particularly appreciated the formation of the maphia (a mafia, but not quite), which smuggled the dying over the border so that they could leave this plane of existence. 

Death operating within the confines of a country's borders implied that she is a federal employee, so I guess we have something in common. (Or a lot in common - death, if you're reading this I am free whenever you are free). 

Recommended if you don't mind your literature experimental (no named characters and few paragraphs breaks or proper punctuation , not unlike this review), enjoy a slow paced reflection, and have some sangria to sip in the sun. 3.5 stars on SG rounded up to 4 on GR. 

"guys idk if you know this but, like... Kids are evil." - Gillian Flynn, probably 

I can't say too much about this short story (novella) without giving it all away. Let me give you some details out of context: a cat without a tail. A house with blood dripping down the wall. A sex worker turned fortune teller. A really, really creepy kid. 

Recommended if you like your narrators unreliable, your characters morally ambiguous, and your hauntings reminiscent of Hill House and the Turn of the Screw. This quick and enjoyable read gets 4 stars on both SG and GR. 

I was really worried that this would be super boring, but it turned out to be a dark academia pandemic/plague novel. 

In a future Oxford, historians can time travel, gather data, and come back. Time travel has many rules and technicalities - there's paradox laws to work with, vaccines to take, and calculations to check and recheck and then check again. These are extensively detailed in the book, and I warn that some may find them boring and repetitive. 

In fact, a lot about this book could be very grating. In this future Oxford, phones have video chat but aren't portable and no one ever answers them when they need to be answered. And there's pages upon pages of dry British humor, references to a student reading Petrarch when he is in fact Netflix and chilling, and a 12 year old boy who is irritating, eating a gob stopper, and thinks everything is apocalyptic. There's also a choir of American bell ringers and an archaeologist trying to save her flooding dig (if anyone cares!!). 

Against this backdrop, our young protagonist, Kevryn, is determined to go back to the early 1300s. It's a risky drop. Historians typically don't travel that far back, and traveling as a woman, alone, is at best suspicious and at worst catastrophic. But she insists, and her chapters are a delight to read. She settles into a small village and finds both allies and enemies. I won't spoil the charming characters for you, but know that there are a few memorable ones (Agnes and Roche especially, like come on) who are worth getting to know. 

But Kevryn arrives sick with fever. And the technician who sent her back in time, still in future Oxford, also collapses from a mysterious illness. Disease spreads in parallel in both settings, and a lot of people spend a lot of time being very sick. The descriptions are graphic, so be warned. 

The pace of this book allows for such an excellent exploration of themes, characters, archetypes, images, culture... Because of the constant reflection on death and illness, discussion of religion features prominently in this book in a way I found remarkably well done. 

I didn't know where else to fit this but: bells. Lots of bells. Agnes' little Christmas bell, the time travel bells, the funeral bells, the American bell choir. Everyone has to ring their own bell. Bells!!!

I can think of so many reasons that this book wouldn't land with people, but I found it near perfect. Through its technicality, repetitiveness, side plots, slow pace, and grotesque descriptions of sickness, the book lived and breathes. In other words: while things occasionally pulled due to being repetitive, this also had everything I could hope for in an epic time travel story. 

Highly recommended if you're into slow paced sci fi with great characters, are prepared for a chonker where lots of things happen but in a (possibly frustrating) way, and are looking for a great audiobook experience. I can't wait to read more of Willis. 4.75 on SG rounded up to 5 on GR. 

This book has everything. And by everything I mean: the vibes of a traveling circus in a mythologized turn-of-the-century st Petersburg that later gets stranded in Siberia, a mysterious woman who may or may not have wings, and several side stories one of which features a panopticon of murderesses. 

I am both enchanted and frightened of Angela Carter now. This was my first foray into her work, and I'm not sure if I enjoyed it. Each sentence goes on its own narrative adventure to the point where I struggled to keep in mind the overall plot (was there one?). But I'm intrigued and I think I want more. The mixed feelings have earned this book a 2.75 on SG, up to 3 on GR. 

I love a good "hey can everyone get off their high horse and calm down" book. 

I listened to this book, starting it while running on a treadmill. I was immediately called out: I'm someone who owns many a wellness thing. I have two yoga mats, three fitness subscriptions, a smart watch that tracks my stress and sleep, a weighted blanket, "superfoods" I eat every day (I just really like Chia seeds, ok?)... It gets worse: I own a box of essential oils that rests next to my diffuser, many lavender roller ball perfumes (and candles!), various self help books, and have paid for meditation apps. 

You get the idea. I even own a tarot deck, but that's (usually) just a party trick. 

I really appreciated the measured way with which the author tackled the wellness industry. It's presented as both a well-meaning beast and a fertile ground for every swindler and self aggrandized "healer" to do real (financial, emotional, physical) harm to their clientele. It tackles current limitations of the north American health care system, MLMs, medical disinformation online, doing your own "research", alternative health care providers, diet culture, confirmation bias, and a myriad of other things.

To put it another way: the book provides a well-needed sanity check around all things wellness culture. I appreciated how grounded it was in both factual info and in laying out how many "truths" touted in these circles are nothing but. The author was also very open and upfront about her own biases. 

All that said, nothing can rip my weighted blanket from my cold, anemic hands. 

Recommended if you, like me, have sought a myriad of things to cure your Ailments, are fascinated by quacks and snake oil salesmen, and look forward to biting your tongue next time someone brings up adrenal fatigue. 3.5 stars on Sg rounded up to 4 on GR.

Does enjoying plots with "`small, intelligent girl who can kill you" basically amount to a power fantasy? Asking for a friend. 

I distinctly remember the first time I saw *that* video of the cordyceps shooting out of the skull of an ant after having piloted it to a perfect location for releasing its spores. It's been a decade since, and I have yet to shake the vice grip of visceral disgust and terror that the concept of mind controling fungi has on me. 

So of course, I really enjoyed this horror book about, among other things, mind controlling fungi. I won't spoil the rest, largely because it's such a delight to watch this story unfold. The book was written in tandem with the screenplay, and consequently is action packed, fast paced, and generally has a cinematic feel to it. I do want to add that the scientific/anatomical details were well researched and reminded me of my lab experience but like...in a fun way. 

Highly recommended but especially if you enjoy zombie-like creatures who resist their nature, post apocalyptic stories about a ragtag group of survivors, and small girls with great power. 4.5 stars on SG rounded up to 5 on GR.

There are two types of stories: a stranger comes to town, or someone goes on a journey. 

The first book, which I loved, featured an anishnaabe community hunkering down during an unspecified apocalypse and then a stranger came to town. Conversely, the sequel follows members of the community going on a journey: it's been many years since the cataclysm, and it's now time to travel south for reconnaissance, supplies, and in search of a new place to come home. 

The writing is nothing short of beautiful. While I did not enjoy the sequel quite as much as Moon of the Crusted Snow, I found it fitting and satisfying. Recommended if you enjoy soft apocalypse stories, want to revisit the characters from the first book, and don't mind a story that spends 90% of its time on the road. 4 stars on both SG and GR. 

Sister Outsider is a beautiful collection of essays and was my first introduction to Audre Lorde. The unfortunate paradox of reading classics (even modern classics) is that, even if fresh at the time of writing, the best ideas presented in the book feel overly familiar. Therefore, while the writing was excellent, certain portions felt repetitive and I struggled to remain engaged with the text. 

Recommended if you're interested in intersectional feminist theory, travel stories, and reflections at the intersection of personal and political. As always, my rating reflects my personal enjoyment of the book as opposed to its literary merit - 2.75 stars on SG, rounded up to 3 on GR.