sunn_bleach's Reviews (249)

 Short stories are an art, and those who wield them well are masters. Bliss Montage is Ling Ma's second published work and first set of short stories, though some of them were published elsewhere beforehand. I like to describe Ling Ma as a prototypical "Millennial" author, in that I do not believe these stories could be written by someone who wasn't an adolescent during the 1990s boom-era and then experienced her formative years during 9/11 and the 2008 Great Recession. There's a wry exhaustion to the way she writes that just speaks to my experience as well (though I'm over a decade younger than her). 

Bliss Montage is on the cusp of speculative fiction in that the fantastic aspects are window dressing for Ling Ma's exploration of relationships and the American immigrant experience. The first (and best) story features a woman who lives in a large mansion with her husband, kids, and every single ex-boyfriend - including flings and one-night stands. It's a fascinating portrayal of how the tendrils of emotional abuse sink into one's psyche, with the follow-up story basically being the "real life" version. 

Other stories are less successful... but like with Max Porter, I'll buy everything she releases if she keeps up this quality for her whole career.

A local read about Lake Tahoe's history and the many lives (famous and otherwise) lived upon its shores. I wish it would have dived into the lake (heh) more itself, but nonetheless a good way to learn more about how such a place has shaped American history.

Another one of those revisits from the mid-2010s when I was getting deeper into adult reading. I felt middling upon first reading "Cat's Cradle" in around 2015 or 2016. Upon this read, I get it a lot more, albeit it's still not my favorite Vonnegut. The parallels to MAD and nuclear warfare are more obvious, though it's clearly meant to be so - the man is angry. Vonnegut writes imperfect and unlikeable characters yet usually separate that from the author's voice (masterful in "Breakfast of Champions"), but here it's hard to separate the pseudo-nameless narrator from Vonnegut's own voice in the native sexualization and overuse of "midget". One can always say he's aware of this - especially since Newt gets it more than anyone else - but it's still jarring. The banana republic satire is similarly confused, at once sardonic toward the USA's involvement in the rape and pillage of those countries while also kind of playing it straight with McCabe and Bokonon.

Yet, as with some other mixed opinion reads this year, I still liked it. The ultimate "fuck you" to God at the end and mordant tendency toward fatalism is incredible. I had a friend who in his early 20s called himself a "Bokononist", and I see why.

I see why some of my friends hate this book. Everyone is an asshole, and it's hard to read about an incredibly privileged woman in NYC living out her rebirth and actually getting it through... sleeping a lot. It's a goddamn tough sell.

I interpreted this as "American Psycho" for the new millennium, taking aim at the empty promises of everything being perfect through a character who's over it all. The parents' stories were cliche, but I know people who have lived very similar lives to these (sleeping notwithstanding), from the Long Island girl who wants to prove it to the ex-beauty mom who's fully aware of her vacuity. The ending is not a surprise; if anything, its inevitability is part of the subversion to the titular year of rest and relaxation.

He is dancing. He says that he will never die.

Too much has been written by others for me to add anything further. A parable on violence and the lie of American Manifest Destiny - but I wouldn't fault others who just cannot find any merit or enjoyment in it, either. I agree with everyone's criticisms; even if they're all true, the reasons why those criticisms exist is why this is a Great American Novel.

Booker Prize listers are always interesting to read regardless of whether I actually enjoy reading them. And that category is "In Ascension" - a book I wanted to like much more than I actually did. The detached tone of the protagonist helped emphasize her detachment from what's in front of her, but I eventually found it grating. I was also pretty annoyed how science-defying and paradigm-shifting revelations were brushed aside of ignored. The deep sea vent that's miles further than anything else discovered? The planetoid suddenly disappearing? These are incredible events that received blasé mention. It's uneven at best.

One great thing: I love how the "true story" is told in the background, namely the destruction of Earth by uncontrolled climate change. MacInnes stated in interviews that was his true purpose of the book, and if anything he hid it a little too well.

This was a surprise hit for me for the 2023 r/fantasy bingo.  One of the squares was for "superheroes". Generally speaking, I find superheroes boring - and as much as I like "Watchmen" and "The Boys", I'm kind of sick of the also-rans that followed them.

This is not your typical superhero story; it's a family story. It's about superheroes far past their prime and well-aware of it; it's also about a family who hasn't really had much to say to each other in a while. Boy, do I feel that. The main character is in his seventies - how many books do that, let alone books about superheroes?

I grew up in north Florida. Hubbard captured the syntax of that area perfectly. I can hear every single one of these family members' speech patterns - and she perfectly evoked the dynamics of the Deep South, from the understated mocking of the haughty brother archetype to the "mad at you but because I love you" of the matriarch. It's amazing how someone writing about a place you know can make a good book even better.

One of the worst books I've read in the last five years, and my opinion only decreases as time passes. Using a graphic, brutal rape as your story-driver and then following it up with your author insert telling another character "why did you have me read this? was I supposed to find kinship with this horrible person" was so eye-rollingly transparent that it actually made me mad. And that's not getting into the "he's too powerful for me" shonen anime-esque sadboyisms from who is ostensibly the second most sympathetic character. (To say nothing of how cloyingly written it is; "overwritten" is an empty descriptor, but there's certainly a lot of Creating Writing Class to its structure.)

The LGBT representation is painfully lackluster and full of unnecessary brooding. The only possible recommendation I can give this is as an example of how not to portray sexual assault and its aftermath in writing - it's that bad.

Another Twain book down; he's accidentally become one of my more well-read authors over the years. I got this book while on my own little trip (five months) through the Sierra Nevada, and boy does it evoke the dust and dirt of that lifestyle. Twain is the most ironic writer I know, and sometimes it's hard to tell when he's being a goober and when he's serious. The tall tales and sardonicism toward mining culture and its microscopic attention span are all apparent, as is his genuine love toward the Hawaiian islands and love-hate relationship with Tahoe and Mono Lake.

But where he confuses me is his outright hatred of the Goshutes and occasional classism. It's hard to puzzle out, and I won't bother defending it, but it's also surprising when one remembers Huck Finn's famous moral choice "alright, I'll go to hell". It's still a fun romp through the west and all its paradoxical, oxymoronic idiosyncrasies - just with moments that strikingly remind me when and how it was written.

This is blatantly a writing exercise - still, I'm glad Delaney convinced Zelazny to publish this. Reading "Creatures of LIght and Darkness" is an interesting experience because of how much the book simultaneously takes you in and out of things *knowing* it was an experiment as opposed to an intentional book. The prose is haphazard (lots of ambiguous antecedents), the mini-stories flit in and out of existence, and the characterization changes as time goes on (why does Madrak suddenly start working with Anubis?). But I like it as an exercise not only in disparate prose styles, but as an interpretation of "sufficiently advanced technology" taken to an extreme of gods. (Also - the first chapter is incredibly good.)