Black Sun Rising

When True Night Falls

Crown of Shadows

by C.S. Friedman

The first book in this fantasy trilogy originally came out in 1991. I read it based on a recommendation from a library patron. I've gone through fantasy reading phases before but hadn't read any in a while, and this series got me kind of back into it.

In the prologue, a ship full of Earthlings is marooned on a distant planet; strange horrors haunt the night, not just in their dreams; a rogue crew member commits a desperate and inexplicable act of terrorism... more about that (much, much) later.

Fast forward who knows how many years, and the books have great world-building and compelling characters. The usual tropes of dark "magic" versus more benign forces, man versus nature, the price of power, the power of love and faith — and of pain, retribution, and loss — are freshened up with a brash almost-anti-hero, a seductive villain, a planet suffused with strange forces, and, most especially, a unique twist on how the "magic" works, who can access it and how. The setting is unusual too, being on the one hand future-y and on another planet but with an orphaned and more primitive medieval-y culture that one expects from fantasy fiction.

Each book repeats, in its own way, the motif of a struggle to heal the aftermath of a terrible transgression and trauma, and then the trilogy as a whole closes the loop with a character who makes the ultimate sacrifice to defeat the most powerful evil. Or does it? I sort of felt like the crashed spaceship of the prologue never really got picked up again, even though certain things were strongly implied, and even though I made my own conclusions... but maybe my confusion was partly due to the fact I read the three books over several years, so I surely forgot things and probably missed some references.

Anyway, I heartily recommend this series to anyone who likes fantasy fiction or wants to give it a try.

Self Comes to Mind: constructing the conscious brain

by Antonio Damasio

I love-love-loved Damasio's 2003 book Looking for Spinoza: Joy, Sorrow, and the Feeling Brain (which instigated my interest in Spinoza, whose biography I recently read). This book is good too, but quite a bit more challenging science-wise. Probably his other two books, from 2000 and 2005, are more up my alley. But I'm glad that I persevered and finished this book. Doing so was a satisfying achievement on a purely intellectual level, and I learned a lot from this book that builds on what I've learned (from Damasio and others) about biology, neurophysiology, my self and my emotions.

In this book, Damasio builds his theory of consciousness from the starting point of a single neuron all the way to the detailed architecture of the human brain's 100 trillion connections, explaining how the layering and nesting of neuronal structures and the recursive, self-referential quality of those neurons and structures generate the seemingly incorporeal idea of a self.

Drifter. Vol. 1, Out of the night

by Ivan Brandon, Nic Klein, Clem Robins

Space western-ish; sort-of zombies; transubstantial aliens (though technically the humans are the real aliens here); living death or life after death; redemption... there's a lot going on here, potentially. This ambitious graphic novel starts off a series with promise, but I was a bit frustrated by the experience of reading just the first volume. The many openings, many questions raised, and many themes left me confused at times and wanting more resolution. This series clearly will be epic in scope, so it's somewhat unrealistic of me to expect resolution, but some other series-es manage to have a more self-contained story in the opener alongside all the world-building and set up for the longer narrative. Maybe this aspect will not bother more avid readers of GNs, but I'm not accustomed to it. I suspect my interest and attention will have wandered by the time the next volume comes to hand, but maybe someday I'll be able to read the whole saga at once.

A Sailor's Story

by Stan Glanzman

Already forgot where I heard about this graphic novel, but I was intrigued right away. My fascination with sailors is a close neighbor of my fascination with prisons and boarding schools, and the history angle — both WW II and comics history — is a great selling point too. I even went to the trouble of doing an interlibrary loan request, since my library only has a couple books with excerpts.

After serving in the Navy in the Pacific during World War II, Stan Glanzman became a Golden Age comic book legend, illustrating numerous adventure and sci-fi and dinosaur comics. His stories of wartime were originally published in '87-'89 and recently re-published. The new edition is full of praise from other comics giants, both new and old. (I only skimmed the intro material, so apologies if I'm getting any of these details wrong.)

The edition I read includes a "second" book, A Sailor's Story: Winds, Dreams, and Dragons, which actually seems choppier and as if it were sketches and vignettes that got refined into the "first" book. The two have a lot of overlap, and the first is more of a narrative and more enjoyable. This look at the daily life of a WW II sailor is at times lighthearted, showing young men working and goofing off. The work of running a ship is mundane and banal but also tense and alien, juxtaposed with the brutality and horror of war. Being relatively short, however, this book only offers glimpses of the horror, so much sinking and bombing and death, so many civilians' lives and homes destroyed too, and ships that sank, killing hundreds of sailors, just because of storms.

Thumbs up all around for story, art, historical significance.

Fraud: essays

by David Rakoff

I think I heard on The Daily Show (with John Stewart) about this author dying. I somehow hadn't heard of him, despite his being on various NPR programs and me being a public radio nerd. The first book by David Rakoff that I read was so so so not what I was expecting. This book is what I had in mind: fantastic writing and wry, intelligent humor. Imagine a more literary David Sedaris. (Who is great in his own way, but his writing is pared down and utilitarian.) Here, Rakoff is writing about his own life, things he's actually done and with the theme of being an outsider, but he writes so well he could write about anything. (Except that other book, to which I say "meh.")

A strong recommendation for those who enjoy the real life wit and humor essay genre and those story-telling programs on the public radio.

Unwind

by Neal Shusterman

I remember this book being an "If you liked Divergent" suggestion and maybe part of the deluge of imitators, but maybe he was going to write it anyway, or already had written it when Divergent blew up. (Or was it "If you liked The Hunger Games"? Was Divergent a Hunger Games imitator?) So, yeah, near-/unspecified-future teen dystopia but actually a very different plot than the other two. Not super original, but a good new twist, and Shusterman is a talented writer. While it didn't blow me away, I would definitely recommend it to someone into the genre.

Clan of the Nakagamis

by Homerun Ken

Spotted this one browsing. The "Juné Yaoi Manga" imprint caught my eye, as I've read some top quality stuff from them. Also, the subject heading "teacher-student relationships" didn't not interest me. This book is kind of a mess, though. A lot of characters, weird supernatural happenings, organized crime (maybe?), and not enough sexy yaoi times. I will not be reading the sequel.

The History of Beauty

edited by Umberto Eco

With short chapters and a wealth of captioned illustrations, this book is much less academic than it could be and is therefore open to a wider audience. It's still rather cerebral stuff, though, despite its unsurprising preoccupation with art and artifice, so it's not quite casual reading purely for pleasure. If the book were smaller and less heavy, I'd say it would make a good toilet book; instead, it's probably a good waiting room or coffee table book. Reading straight through isn't necessary, but going that route (as I did) could be very rewarding. While the book tells a coherent and linear story about the idea and ideals of beauty, it is a history of Western aesthetics constructed from from fragments and vignettes. A good book for someone interested in art, philosophy, and/or history, and for those looking to stock their trivia arsenals.

Wetlands

by Charlotte Roche

A few years ago someone told me this book was being made into a movie, but I was doubtful, just from having flipped through and read a few bits. I mean, the protagonist starts talking about her hemorrhoids in the first sentence, and later she talks about liking to have sex while she's menstruating and how great it is to get the blood all over the place. And that's barely the tip of the proverbial iceberg. So much more "ew" in this book.

I think my friend was confusing Wetlands with Diary of a Teenage Girl by Phoebe Gloeckner (who isn't German like Charlotte Roche but does have a Germanic sounding name, as does her book's protagonist), which actually was made into a movie. Both the film and book Diary of a Teenage Girl were criticized for their frank portrayal of teen female sexuality. Wetlands offers sort of the same kind of look at a teenage woman's physicality, turned up to 11.

As disgusting as this book is at times, it isn't gratuitous. The author is going to extremes to make a point (and the fact that this book seems extreme is part of the point) about the cultural treatment of women's bodies and sexuality: how they're purified and polluted, policed and protected, exposed and shielded and shamed. This attitude is very different from the way men, even teenagers and children, are explicitly and implicitly encouraged and praised in their sexual appetites and bodily functions, secretions, and smells. The difference is much more fundamental and insidious than "boys can be dirty, girls should smell pretty" or "guys are studs, girls are sluts."

Anyway, this book is a fairly quick read. It's viscerally shocking while also being challengingly subtle, layered, and powerful. The author never really tells you the point she's trying to make, she just throws a lot at the reader to see what will stick. The reader's reaction to all the ick is part of the book's message.

Nicholas Nickleby

by Charles Dickens

also known as...

The Life and Adventures of Nicholas Nickleby: Containing a Faithful Account of the Fortunes, Misfortunes, Uprisings, Downfallings, and Complete Career of the Nickleby Family

edited by "Boz."
with illustrations by "Phiz."

After reading and loving Bleak House, I had the idea to read a classic every year. I've been thinking about how to inject some diversity into that project, but life is short and I like Dickens. Also, I saw a bit of the 2002 film starring the adorable young Charlie Hunnam (before he got ripped), and I was tickled by his pronunciation of Dotheboys Hall (not the way people usually say Sotheby's, as in the auction house, but more like "do the boys") — not to mention cute little (also pre-ripped) Jamie Bell as the worshipful Smike.

I've also seen the 1977 TV mini-series, and I found the book to be much funnier than either of these two screen adaptations. Don't get me wrong, it's tragedy at every turn for the poor Nicklebys (though everything works out in the end), but the book has a good number of humorous (tragi-comic, if you must) episodes. The jolly John Browdie is always good for a laugh, and the Squeerses are so vile as to border on parody. (Not to say the infamous Yorkshire schools weren't a real social ill being criticized by Dickens.)

Overall, though, this book is not one I'd recommend to someone just getting started with Dickens or early Victorian novels. If you've got a taste for such things, however, you'll find much to enjoy. Some critics have disdained Nicholas Nickleby's obvious good-vs-evil plot and unrefined characterizations, but simplicity has its virtues too. I'd rather have really good strawberry ice cream instead of a so-so maple and fennel or a challenging bone marrow and peppercorn. (You know who you are, Salt & Straw!)

Unflattening

by Nick Sousanis

This comic book (aka sequential art, visual narrative, graphic novel, etc.) is about the power and potential of visual communication techniques to open new perspectives. It aims to be rather intellectual by quoting lots of intellectuals and academics (philosophers, linguists, and semioticians — oh my!) and referring to them usually by last name only. (Because of course everyone knows who Gilles Deleuze is. Do you even deconstruct, bro?)

The author/artist does a great job of combining and manipulating text and image in unexpected and innovative ways that are also useful to understanding, rather than just technically virtuosic or unnecessarily complex. He presents some very interesting ideas but also a lot of "undergraduate" philosophizing and naive opining about how conformity sucks, man. I guess I'm just old, jaded, and stuck in "flattened" ways of thinking and looking, but to me the author's line of reasoning seems to frequently mistake metaphor for reality and/or conflate metaphor (a vehicle for meaning) with actual meaning (the content of metaphor).

I took some notes, and could have taken more, but, in another example of my jadedness, I don't really care enough to go into that kind of detail here. I'll just say that one particular weakness is the author's failure to grasp certain neurobiological realities. He rejects one facile explanation of right- and left-brain difference only to substitute an equally simplistic interpretation that still ignores the fundamental connectedness and interactivity of the two hemispheres. Most appalling, given his Deleuzean leanings, is his overlooking the fact that the human brain is the ultimate self-referential rhizomatic structure! (If you know your Deleuze and Guattari, you'll get the significance or rhizomes.)

Anyway, despite my quibbles, Unflattening is a worthwhile addition to the body of works legitimizing comics (by any name) as not only an art form but a vehicle for information and ideas.

The Beautiful and the Damned: a portrait of the new India

by Siddhartha Deb

I'd always meant to read Maximum City: Bombay Lost and Found, but I never got around to it, and now my library doesn't have it anymore. Jeez, it came out only 10 years ago!

But I did get to read this book, which is pretty decent and not too long. Each chapter looks at a different person or place (if I'm recalling correctly) that highlights a particular aspect of the exuberantly chaotic social landscape of modern India: literally a billion people, some fantastically rich and many desperately poor, a crowded country in a crowded part of the world. Not an exhaustive survey, just some interesting vignettes; a different author would have found different things interesting — no shortage of things to look at or ways of looking at India.

Between You & Me: confessions of a Comma Queen

by Mary Norris

I've been called a "grammar nazi" plenty of times. Language evolves, casual and colloquial is fine for some contexts, let's not get into all that...

This book is not so much a rant about grammar or style, and it's not a catalog of rules or mistakes. While it does delve into some of the finer details of correct* grammar, this book also shares a lot about the author's career at the New Yorker magazine and people she's known over the years — some of which is quite interesting and most of which is at least a little interesting, but these stories can seem boring and unnecessary if you thought you were just going to be reading about grammar.

I felt as if I didn't like the book much immediately after reading it, but I like it more in retrospect. In particular, I'm somewhat enamored of her obsession with pencils and pencil sharpeners, and I enjoyed the discussion of the history of Webster's dictionary/-ies and the various editions.

* Style- and grammar-wise, the New Yorker is mostly very conservative, but it also has those lovely, quirky house-style things, such as the diaeresis in words like reëlection, that are unique to the magazine.

Newton's Apple and Other Myths about Science

edited by Ronald L. Number and Kostas Kampourakis

I think I jumped on this one just from the title. At first I was puzzled that my library only had one copy of it, because popular science books tend to circulate well. I figured out why once I started reading: this book is not about people's incorrect knowledge of science (eg., most people think Schrödinger's cat is 50% alive and 50% dead, when really its status is indeterminate), it's about myths within the history of science and the pedagogy of science as a body of knowledge, a methodology, and/or a way of thinking. So, pretty academic and not so much intended for the lay reader.

Here is a series of quotes from the book that give an idea of how it's written and what it's about:

"What exactly do we mean by 'myths in science'? Often we mean the propagation of stories that are at odds with the historical record -- be it because their protagonists have specific views on how science has (or ought to have) developed or because teachers and textbook writers find them educationally expedient."

"Myths, as the French linguist Roland Barthes (1915-1980) put it in his Mythologies, are not simply inaccurate statements about the world; they are a specific kind of speech. Myths are a way of collectively expressing something about values, beliefs, and aspirations, even though, taken literally, the content of myth is not true."

"Part of the problem reflects a general limitation of all textbooks. Textbook writers, in consideration of space limitations and intended audience, present science as briefly and simply as possible. This systematic omission of details regarding the process of science has the unfortunate consequence of portraying the results of science as certain, rather than tentative and the object of continued investigation."

Even though this book is very different from what I expected, I rather enjoyed it. The academic tone isn't all that bad, the chapters — each one dedicated to a particular myth — are short, and the entire book is of modest length. Good to stretch the brain muscles and feel like a smartypants. I learned new things and deepened my understanding of others.

Into the Unknown: how great explorers found their way by land, sea and air

by Stewart Ross

illustrated by Stephen Biesty

Such an amazing book! Cataloged for kids but so much for adults to enjoy too. Lovely detailed drawings and big fold-out pages about fourteen amazing journeys, from a Greek sailor in 340 BC to the moon landing in 1969, along with explanatory text and informative sidebars. This book would be an excellent gift for that smart kid you know; even if it's beyond their current reading level, they can geek out over the pictures and grow into it. Adults will appreciate this book but probably would want something heftier for their own shelves.

Assholes Finish First

by Tucker Max

I enjoyed the raunchy, obnoxious comedy of I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell, so I was prepared again to ignore the fundamental — and self-identified — asshole-ism of the author in order to get some laughs at the expense of others. His second outing is, not surprisingly, not as good as the first, though (because?) it covers very similar ground. Call it the sophomore slump, or maybe just the novelty wearing off. To be fair, I did laugh out loud more than once.

I'm not particularly inclined to read his third book, but I still want to see the movie based on the first. And the third book, if I were stuck at the airport and had it to read, I'm sure it would help pass the time with at least a few chuckles.

You Got Nothing Coming: notes from a prison fish

by Jimmy A. Lerner

Let's not try to figure out why I'm so fascinated by life in prison. Let's just agree that this is an interesting book, very gritty and honest and real, and it scratched most of my itch. It's no literary masterpiece, but the writing is fine and appropriately straightforward. This true story is not boring.

And let's not discuss the problems with the American criminal justice system and the correctional industry. Let's just agree that life in prison in the United States is very rough and could stand to be improved a lot without lessening the intended punishment.

Blind Descent: the quest to discover the deepest place on earth

by James M. Tabor

Since it's about going down instead of up, this book could sort of be the opposite of Touching the Void, or one of the other books about climbing Mt. Everest. It's pretty well-written, mostly not boring, and manages to convey the excitement and danger of the expeditions even to someone not involved or particularly interested in spelunking. Solid recommendation if you like travel and adventure, extreme sports, survival stories.

My one complaint is sort of a technicality: if the cave starts up the side of a mountain and the bottom of it is at the level of a valley floor, no matter how far it is from top to bottom, it just doesn't feel as "deep" as something below sea level. I've probably just read Journey to the Center of the Earth too many times.

Single Digits: in praise of small numbers

by Marc Chamberland

Another book that is not what I'd imagined it would be. The intro says that, yes, it gets into some pretty advanced math, but also says that one can gloss over the finer details of the equations without losing the greater sense of the explanations, which are written such that a 12-year-old can understand — to which I call shenanigans! I admit my math is a little rusty, but I'd be surprised if any twelfth-graders would get this stuff.

One particularly annoying thing is the frequent use of "nontrivial" to describe numbers or equations or whatever without ever defining it. I made it through a semester of college-level calculus (barely) without ever encountering that terminology.

So, totally not for beginners, no matter how intriguing the book description sounds. Perhaps someone will write a book about the interesting qualities of numbers that really is for the layperson.

The Routes of Man: how roads are changing the world and the way we live today

by Ted Conover

I had such high hopes for this book! Hopes that were neither fulfilled nor fully dashed.

I was disappointed that the book doesn't have more of an overview or history of road building and civilization. Instead, each chapter looks at a particular road (not always what we Americans might imagine) and it's current significance in a globalized/globalizing world. I remember each chapter being interesting in and of itself, along the lines of a longer magazine article, but the book as a whole isn't what I wanted it to be. I think maybe I didn't quite finish, or perhaps did some skimming.

A fine book, though, especially if you like travel writing and have an interest in the developing world.

Call Me Home

by Megan Kruse

I hemmed and hawed on this book for a while after the first review I read. Eventually, I decided the story of a young gay man in the rural Pacific Northwest was enough of a hook for me. Even after I checked it out, though, it took me a while to get around to reading it.

At first, I was stunned and thrilled by the writing, which seemed fresh and tender and emotionally taut. That initial blush of amazement wore off somewhat, but I still give this book great marks overall. It's a tragic story, with domestic violence and desperate choices, wrenching betrayals and hopeful reunions. Point of view alternates among three characters, sometimes unevenly in terms of length. At times I wasn't feeling the sections from the mother's POV, but ultimately her story becomes a convincingly difficult picture of a woman in a destructive relationship.

The young man's storyline is thoroughly explored, but I was never 100% sold. His relationship with a closeted construction foreman seems too good to be true, even while it is clearly doomed, but his emotions and longing are realistic. The third narrator is the younger sister, whose sections are told in first person, lending them more immediacy. She's less fully-drawn and in ways more intriguing, partly but not only by virtue of being young and half-baked.

Let Dai, vols. 1-15

by Won Soo-yeon (원수연)

So, I've written recently that I don't actually read that many graphic novels, but I've recently reviewed three and am now going to review a Korean manhwa series. Playing catch up on things I read long ago is partly to blame, but maybe I read more graphic stuff than I realize.

I read about this series last year in School Library Journal, I think, in an article about popular new manga for teens. (Korean "manhwa," Japanese "manga" — same diff.) My library didn't have it, so I wound up using interlibrary loan for the entire 15 volume series. I felt a little guilty about doing so, because a lot of work goes into getting a book through interlibrary loan, and once or twice I started and finished one of these books on my lunch break and checked it right back in after only having it checked out for an hour. Oh, well. Having read a fair amount of Japanese yaoi, I was interested to see the Korean take. (Boy Princess, also mentioned in the article and also Korean, was a big disappointment.)

The tender and wistful boys-love style covers belie a much darker interior. A sudden and intense attraction between two young men of different backgrounds — a clean-cut mama's boy and a rebellious gang leader — swirls into violence that threatens to destroy their own lives and brings grievous harm to those around them. It's quite tragic, really, and occasionally confusing, but overall it's a difficult story well-told. No really sexy bits, but the young men's tense and tortured relationship is convincingly drawn, and other characters are nicely developed too. Top notch.

Ranger's Apprentice series:

The Ruins of Gorlan

The Burning Bridge

The Icebound Land

by John Flanagan

This fantasy adventure series is solid, and I regularly recommend it to kids. It's also up to 12 books, and ain't nobody got time for that!

Will, the 15-year-old protagonist, is drafted by the mysterious Rangers, stealthy warriors trained to fight and, more importantly, to forestall battles through covert operations. Even while training to become a protector of the kingdom, he will face mortal danger.

I don't remember there being any magic in these books, but they share the vaguely medieval setting of many fantasy stories that do feature magic. This series is more about adventure and survival, and of course the perennial middle-school-to-young-adult themes of independence and individualism, while also relying on the support of others and developing mature relationships.

Gripping, entertaining, and relatively quick (for an adult). I'd always meant to read more of them, but I'll probably never get around to it.

Grayson, Volume 1: agents of Spyral

written by Tim Seeley, Tom King; art by Mikel Janín, Stephen Mooney, Guillermo Ortego, Juan Castro

I have great affection for graphic novels, but I also have a dirty little secret: I don't actually read many graphic novels. I also love movie adaptations of comic books, but I very rarely read the super-hero graphic novels or comic books. Further confession: I didn't know Professor Xavier had a sister until I'd finished reading an entire book featuring her and asked my friend "But who's this weird bald guy?" (Mitigating factor: the book was third in a series, and I hadn't read the first two.)

On the other hand, I am signed up to get e-mails from DC and Marvel, as well as a big comics and manga distributor, about new releases and such. One of those e-mails is how I came across this new series (volume two coming soon!) and decided to give it a go, though I'm not entirely sure why. I have great nostalgia for the 1960s Batman television show, and I've seen all the recent Batman movies and two or three of the older ones, but I wouldn't say I'm a big Batman fan, and even less of a Robin fan — Chris O'Donnell's 1997 costume nipples and codpiece notwithstanding. Perhaps I was attracted to the lurid pink cover and a character named Dick?

Whatever the reason, I wound up really liking this book. In this universe, everyone thinks Dick Grayson is dead. Some group of villains who wanted to unmask all the heroes took him on television and outed him as Nightwing (or outed Nightwing as Dick?) and killed him. Being dead is a great cover for becoming a super-secret double-agent, which makes for a promising series storyline. I anxiously await volume 2, and I almost regret that I read volume 1 when it was brand new, because my only complaint is that it's short and I want more.

A final admission: sure, this Dick Grayson is pretty attractive, and that certainly is part of his appeal for me. I also appreciate seeing a male character get a bit of the lady–super-hero treatment with sexual objectification and beefcake shots (and in a book written and drawn by a bunch of men, to boot).

Big Baby

by Charles Burns

A very weird and kind of gross graphic "novel." More like a comic book, maybe, since it's not a long story but several shorter ones. But nothing like a traditional comic book. I don't know what it's called, but there's a genre of graphic books that is all about the surreal and bizarre, often with gore and nudity and monsters and half-humans. Not recommended unless you're into that genre.

The Screwed-Up Life of Charlie the Second

by Drew Ferguson

I guess my library doesn't have this book anymore, so I'm glad I read it when I did. I certainly have some complaints about it, but overall I quite liked it. Being about teenagers, this book would have been a young adult book if not for the graphic sex scenes. I mean, teen fiction often has sex, but not with this level of detail in the descriptions. Older teens could definitely handle this aspect of the book, and younger ones probably could too, even if their parents don't want to admit it.

The main character is pretty likeable, if dopey and naive at times. (Maybe he's just hopeful and uncynical, unlike grown-up me.) He struggles with being gay in high school, his parents' separation, general high school angst. The ending is crushingly sad and traumatic. The most important secondary character reacts to his own difficulties in a way that didn't make sense to me, though his response might seem to someone else to be the natural one, and maybe it could have been adequately explained if the book had been about him.

Kiss & Tell

by Alain de Botton

I love this author's nonfiction books so much, particularly because of his writing style, that I decided to take a chance on this novel. Forever philosophical and always quotable, de Botton turns a simple love story into an exploration of love as an act of biography, and mistaken biography at that. One quotation from this book that sums up the whole premise, I liked so much that I wrote it on my wall. It's something to the effect that we are never more wrong about who someone is than when we are in love, because we are in love with the person we believe them to be or want them to be — a person capable of loving us — rather than the person they really are.

Verdict: an enjoyable book, pleasant to read, that is more than just its story. Not recommended if you're all about the plot or looking for earnest romance, though it's not entirely cynical on the possibilities of love.

Sex and the River Styx

by Edward Hoagland

Lordy, lordy! Writing about a book I read four (five?) years ago sure can be challenging. I'm at a total loss as to how I found out about this book, since it's not the sort I normally read or casually encounter, but I'd bet that the title grabbed me. In any case, I liked it enough that I regularly put it on the staff picks shelf.

I'm usually hesitant to read a collection of essays, unless they're humorous ones in the vein of David Sedaris. This aversion is probably due to some negative association between essays and schoolwork, or the feeling that most essayists are cranky older men, but I ought to try and get over it, because so many great writers write essays, and when the writing is really good the subject hardly matters. Also, the essay format is readily digestible, amenable to skipping around, and easy to put down and let go if you're not enjoying yourself. Reminds me of reading Harper's or The Atlantic Monthly.

This collection finds the author examining his experience of aging and re-examining his earlier experiences, while he writes about his childhood explorations in the woods of rural Connecticut, his years working in the circus, and his many travels around the world. A thread of melancholy and the feeling of imminent endings are woven throughout the book, but so is a sense of wonder and transcendence. I recommend this book to anyone who takes pleasure in well-crafted language and thoughtful commentary on being human.

Trashed

by Derf Backderf

If you don't have anything nice to say... just ignore the guy's name. I imagine there's some kind of story behind it, right?

Anyway, this graphic novel pairs fictional episodes in the life of a garbage man, based on the author's own stint as a refuse collector (sanitation engineer?), with factoids about the history of trash, trash trucks, landfills, and the disposable economy. The amount of garbage we humans, and our associated industries, generate is nothing short of astonishing, and the ways we make it "disappear" are grossly inadequate. Not surprising, if you give it any thought, but then most of us never do. The stories of what it's like to be the ones picking up curbside are pretty much what you'd imagine, but very entertaining nonetheless. Well-done all around — art, coloring, dialogue — on thick paper in a strong binding: a solid piece of work both artistically and physically.

Spinoza: the outcast thinker

by Devra Lehmann

I only had vague notions of 17th century philosopher Baruch (a k a Benedictus) Spinoza until I read Looking for Spinoza: Joy, Sorrow, and the Feeling Brain, by Antonio Damasio, during my period of fascination with neuroscience. Ever since, though, I've wanted to know more about him and his philosophy. I'm still not sure I want to go directly to the source and read Spinoza's masterwork, Ethics, because I like not being in school and don't want to feel academic. (I'm less intellectual than I sometimes pretend, or am sometimes taken to be.)

When I stumbled across this book, it seemed like a nice way to learn a little more without having to resort to reading straight-up philosophy. While I enjoyed this book, it's mostly biographical and only explains points of his philosophy as they are germane to events in his life and his difficulties in getting his work published, as well as the religious and political establishments' negative reactions to his work. I could have learned more about Spinoza's philosophy by reading his Wikipedia page. Even so, Spinoza's life, and reading about the cultural and intellectual climate of the time (1660s-'70s Amsterdam), is super interesting — and it's got me feeling a bit braver about reading Ethics.

The book seems really well researched, and the author is very clear about instances in which she's speculating how Spinoza might have felt. The writing is clear and smart without, for the most part, over-explaining. I was thinking the author might be a high school teacher, which would explain this writing style, and in trying to confirm that supposition I've noticed that this book won the 2014 National Jewish Book Award for Children's and Young Adult Literature. I totally get this being a book aimed at teens, and Spinoza's independent thinking, resistance to authority, and disregard for tradition certainly have some teen appeal as well.

Men of the Manor: erotic encounters between upstairs lords and downstairs lads

edited by Rob Rosen


Nasty Boys: rough trade erotica

edited by Shane Allison

These books are anthologies, so obviously the stories are hit-or-miss (or in-between). I don't want to go into a lot of detail as to which stories appealed to me more, because personal reasons. I've never been too shy on this blog, but this time around you can tell enough about my preferences from the titles of these two books. On the whole, I'd say more stories were good than were not good. I even read a few of them more than once, and at least one has a permanent entry in the Rolodex.

One complaint, which I have about a lot of porn — er, "erotica — is that there's not a lot of condoms being used in these stories. Men of the Manor, being a period piece, has a built in excuse, I guess. I don't want to get into a whole thing about it, but I came of age when condoms were the only tool (other than abstinence and/or monogamy) to protect oneself against HIV and when living with HIV was much more difficult, so I tend to reflexively expect safe(r) sex. Obviously, sex feels better without condoms, but I personally always feel a little icky when the lack of condoms is over-emphasized as an erotic element, which isn't actually the case in most of these stories, but I'm also disappointed when the choices about safe(r) sex are completely glossed over, which is mostly what happens in these books. A couple of times, a character does briefly consider his safe(r) sex options but quickly decides "fuck it," which is even more disappointing that not bringing it up at all.

The Edge of the World:  a cultural history of the North Sea and the transformation of Europe

by Michael Pye

OMG I loved this book! It's the sort of history book I adore, though not the best kind for thorough learning, a book that revels in details and unexpected connections, the sort of things for which a textbook has no room. The writing is engaging and intelligent, and the presentation of information is more artful than methodical.

In another context, I wrote a one-sentence blurb about this book; one of my best blurbs ever, IMHO: "A highly readable anecdotal narrative history of civilization around the North Sea from 476 to 1492 that skitters around the timeline in various thematic chapters, each a lens through which the author examines the importance of sea travel as the impetus and/or vehicle for social changes and technological developments."

If you're preoccupied with diversity and subverting the dominant paradigm, this book probably is not for you. By which I don't mean that it's pushing some sort of hegemonic agenda per se, only that it's very tightly focused on a particular time period in a certain place, and that place just happens to be the source of many globalized ideas and cultural norms and aspirations that, it could easily be argued, historically have not been disseminated in a way that is respectful of indigenous societies or sensitive to the differing narratives of the oppressed.

Annoying: the science of what bugs us

by Joe Palaca and Flora Lichtman

This book is really annoying. Everything that is wrong with some popular science books is wrong with this book. All the things.

Full Rip 9.0: the next big earthquake in the Pacific Northwest

by Sandi Doughton

Waited too long to read this book, so the experience was tainted by The New Yorker's alarmist and misleading article and associated internet click bait. The introduction is quite melodramatic, but the human stories threaded throughout the narrative are nicely told. Good science for the most part and okay writing, though you can tell she's more a journalist than a long-form author. At the time I had some specific quibbles but can't recall them now; they were pretty minor.

Most important take-away: yes, it will be terrible when the Cascadia Subduction Zone quake happens, but it's not as overdue as it's often made out to be. 'Course, it could happen any time....

Wicked Bugs: the louse that conquered Napoleon's army & other diabolical insects

by Amy Stewart

Well, ya know, I could've sworn I read the author's other book, Wicked Plants, but I guess not. We seem to be in pre-saved reading history territory, so maybe I'll never know.

Whichever book I read, I recall that it was pretty good in that science-lite sort of way. I wouldn't have minded more science details, but this book is no science slouch. It's done catalog style, without an over-arching narrative structure. Many bugs are covered, and some get more attention than others. Reviews are suggesting the book has a sense of humor, which I vaguely recall now that I've been prompted, but it's not the most striking feature. The focus, not surprisingly, is on bugs' effects on humans, from painful stings to parasitism and from the personal to the historic.

Being a "toilet book" (small, lots of short bits easy to read sporadically), Wicked Bugs could be a cute gift book, either for someone who's into insects, or in jest for someone who hates bugs.

Grave Mercy

Dark Triumph

Mortal Heart

by Robin LaFevers

Dogs "bay," donkeys "bray." A tremble or shiver is a "shudder," not a "shutter." A cloud can't really "scuttle" because it can't move furtively, but it's quite common for clouds to be described as "scudding." (Errors and/or editing deficiencies from the third book; I also saw four or five typos, mostly toward the end, which suggests rushing toward a deadline.)

Now that I've got that off my chest... I really liked these books — like, an embarrassing amount. I read the His Fair Assassin series over a span of three years, so not all at once, but I never doubted I would read them all. I stayed up too late reading each one.

The series has excellent ingredients: young adult fiction, strong female characters, danger, political intrigue, a bit of supernatural, and thrilling romance. The first book came out in 2012, when everyone was still looking for or trying to be the next Hunger Games, so I'm kind of surprised that the series seems not to have gotten all that much attention. Could be the late Medieval setting wasn't a draw for some people, but it's sort of Game of Thrones-y and therefore even more attuned to the zeitgeist. Also, the covers are very pretty and dramatic (even cinematic) looking. Go figure.

I actually think the setting of the books in Brittany at the very end of the Middle Ages was one of the best things about the series and really set it apart from other books that imitated Hunger Games by featuring young women and deadly combat. The author uses figures and events from actual history (though she does take artistic liberties), and makes great use of the period's pagan Celtic beliefs, which were waning in the face of Christianity but persisted longer on the Breton peninsula than they did in most of mainland Europe.

This book series could make an excellent television show. It offers plenty of room to be creative with costumes and sets and filming locations, and the multiple lead characters have overlapping but not strictly concurrent storylines that would translate well into a weekly show.

Uprooted

by Naomi Novik

Thinking about this book and how to review it, I'm reminded of a quote from Lindsay Hill's Sea of Hooks: "Grief keeps coming back with the same things in its hands--Grief comes back again, its hands full of the same things arranged differently" — at first, simply because the writer of Uprooted manages to take elements common to many fantasy/magic stories and arrange them in a fresh way, but the more I consider it, the more ways I see this quote is applicable: the protagonist, a hedgewitch of sorts, and her wizard foil use the same magic but manipulate it in different ways, and grief is at the root of the immense evil they must fight against together.

I liked this book more than I expected I would. I almost didn't even read it, and now I can easily say it's one of the best books I read in 2015, an exciting book that kept me up late reading. Though I may not be qualified to say so, I feel as if the main character is more feminist than some of the popular strong/bad-ass female characters of recent years. (Yes, Katniss, I'm talking about you.) Uprooted has a dash of romance, too, and a conclusive yet not entirely resolved ending that is open in a way that suggests future possibilities for the characters without being obvious groundwork for a sequel.

A Kind of Intimacy

by Jenn Ashworth

I don't remember what sold me on this book, but it is published by Europa Editions, which always will get me to at least consider a book. In any case, though it's been a while since, I remember this book being not too shabby. Not great or truly memorable, but entertaining enough and not a slog at all.

Sometimes I don't think I really understand what "psychological fiction" is — and that's one of the subject headings for this novel. As is "overweight women," which is kinda weird. I mean, I guess I remember the main character being described as, and considering herself as, overweight, but that fact wasn't really integral to the plot. The book's not about her being overweight, though I guess it does factor into her mental state, which is the "psychological" bit, then. She's had some kind of trauma and goes into something resembling a fugue, but maybe she's just a sociopath and a pathological liar — or is she?! — or isn't she?! — or is she?!

Looking back it reminds me a bit of a slightly sinister and suspenseful version of Wally Lamb's She's Come Undone, without the triumphal ending. But maybe I'm just stuck on the obesity thing. Probably more like a sinister and suspenseful version of The Dive from Clausen's Pier.

Prepare to Die!

by Paul Tobin

I think someone told me this author lives or lived in Portland, or at least somewhere in Oregon, which sort of pushed me over the edge when I was on the fence about reading this book. Also, I think I saw it on a list made by some library staff.

In any case, the book didn't thrill me. It's definitely nowhere near as good as Soon I Will Be Invincible — in fact, I'll just say it: this book isn't any good at all. I've read worse, but I almost didn't finish it, which is a big deal for me. The premise of a super-hero who wants to retire is interesting, but I had some issues with the writing, both on a technical level and artistically. I remember groaning a lot and being annoyed at stupid turns of events or character actions.

News from Home: stories

by Sefi Atta

I don't remember being wowed by this book, but it's a solid collection of short stories about Nigerians, both at home and abroad. The author's prior book (her first novel?) won some sort of award. If you like to read contemporary fiction by non-American, non-British writers, this one's definitely worth a look.

Henry & Glenn Forever & Ever

by Tom Neeley & friends

The annotation I wrote for this book (in a list of books that originated as zines) might be my best annotation ever: "Like a metal-punk version of Mad About You, this collection lays bare the domestic life of an imaginary couple, who just happen to be rock gods."

I'd read several of the zines, but now I've finally read the whole amazing book. It's a mix of short graphic stories about the fictional relationship of the titular couple, Henry Rollins and Glenn Danzig. Being an "& friends" kind of thing, quality varies a bit, but overall it's very good. Humorous, obviously, and sometimes actually quite sexy. Hall & Oates make regular appearances as well. Lots of one-page portraits of the couple are interspersed, some in full color but mostly black and white.

Verdict: simply delightful. I almost want to own it, which is a very high bar for me.

How to Speak Brit: the quintessential guide to the King's English, Cockney slang, and other flummoxing British phrases

by C.J. Moore

This book was a disappointment. Not that it's bad, it just wasn't what I'd imagined it would be. I have Anglophile tendencies and occasionally aspire to incorporate more Britishisms in my vocabulary. I'd especially love to be facile with the Cockney rhyming slang, but usually I struggle to think of an example or explain how it works, let alone deploying it conversation or making up new rhymes on the fly. This very slim book isn't any sort of overview of British English, it's just a very selective alphabetical list of some Brit-speak with cheeky explanations. Fine for what it is, but don't get your hopes up.



 

Priceless Honey

by Shiuko Kano

A nice yaoi-ish collection of erotic manga by a great author, whose work I've praised here before. The stories are about young men in the twink age range, with various combinations. The centerpiece story has a high school janitor moonlighting as a gay escort to earn extra money for his demanding girlfriend. The stories are all inventive and nicely detailed, despite being short, and the naughty bits are pleasingly explicit (but also pixelated).

Luck in the Shadows

Stalking Darkness

Traitor's Moon

by Lynn Flewelling

Such sweet agony!!!! Reading the Nightrunner series is simultaneously thrilling and maddening. So much build up and so much action left until the last 50 pages, the plotting of the stories could drive one crazy. But that's the hook, isn't it — that slingshot ride, along with the two characters in whose lives I've become so invested. (Okay, maybe I'm  a little in love or lust with one or both of them.)

In some ways, the series is fairly typical fantasy stuff: magic people, not-magic people, in-between people; queens, kings, horses, ships; war, intrigue, enemies; the lovable rogue and his protégé; etc. Good world-building, as they say in the fantasy biz, along with intricate plots and discreet foreshadowing.

But this book also has a special appeal for me, one that I almost don't want to mention. Hints are dropped early on, but the super–slow-burning tension takes almost two whole books to ignite, in a tender moment so perfect I wept with joy (and posted on Facebook about it). In book three, the relationship is obviously passionate but always tasteful and never explicit.

On the one hand, I'm tempted to tear through the whole series; on the other, doing that might make me nuts. I just checked out the next book, but I'm hesitant to jump back into this world without a break. Also, there are now even more books in the series since I last looked: Shadow's Return (checked out today), The White Road, Casket of Souls, and Shards of Time.

The Prince's Boy

by Paul Bailey

A short and somewhat melancholy romance set in interwar Paris. A young Romanian man with literary aspirations is sent off to have a Bohemian summer. Instead of writing, he falls madly in love with an older man. Circumstances keep them apart for years, but ultimately they build a life together. (How lucky to have one's first sexual experience also be one's soulmate!) They live happily, more or less, but not ever after. This book is the young man, now grown, recording his mate's rags to riches story, and telling his own story in the process.

Well-written, not long, not sad enough to make you cry, erotically charged without being explicit.

Rain: a natural and cultural history

by Cynthia Barnett

Books by journalists aren't always great, even if the journalist is an excellent journalist. This book is full of fascinating information, but the narrative and thematic arrangement was not what I wanted it to be. I have a co-worker who disagrees; as the Dude says, "Yeah, well, you know, that's just, like, your opinion, man."

I took longer to read this book than I expected. As fascinating as the information is, I felt swamped by the digressions and wanted a bit more science. The author truly delivers on the cultural history (mostly European and North American) promised by the title, and I started to enjoy that aspect more when I re-started reading after stalling out for close to a week. Could be that I'm judging this book too harshly because I wasn't in the mood for it, or something.

Happy

by Alex Lemon

An outgoing athlete popular with the ladies, Alex Lemon could have had four idyllic years at college. Instead, he had a stroke, and then another, and another; some of the depression and hard times that followed were direct effects of this brain injury, but his disappointment and difficulties led him into drug and alcohol abuse, alienation from friends, and other antisocial behavior. Eventually he had surgery and recovered with the help of a nurturing mother. He's won some poetry awards.

I don't remember the recovery and redemption part very much. Reviews and/or the publisher's description refer to the book's "honesty," "unexpected humor and sensuality," and "Technicolor sentences." I remember it being bleak, morally un-enlightening, and not particularly inspiring.

Anyway, it's short. Could be a good recommendation for someone into memoirs of illness, or that sort of young-adult-off-the-rails memoir.



 

The Fly Trap

by Fredrik Sjöberg

A lovely wee book that's as much a pleasure to hold (and behold) as it is to read. A rambling memoir/meditation of sorts by a Swedish entomologist, the narrative meanders through myriad subjects, always looping back to insects and those who collect and study them, in particular René Malaise, who sounds made up but isn't. If it's a trap, it's a luxurious trap, a honeytrap.

Describing a book like this one is always a challenge. It's about something, but it's also about everything and nothing in particular, about the journey as much as the destination. Certain writers can start on a subject and artfully pick apart or weave together such disparate threads, with the reader barely noticing. Alain de Botton, author of The Architecture of Happiness (among others), is one such writer. Somewhat stylistically similar books that I've reviewed might be The Whale: In Search of the Giants of the Sea and About a Mountain.

More Happy Than Not

by Adam Silvera

Time was, I couldn't get enough young adult fiction. As a kid, I skipped from Encyclopedia Brown right to Stephen King, so maybe I was making up for lost time. (Okay, I did sneak-read my sister's Sweet Valley High books.) But what happened? Too much dystopia, too many vampires, too many covers with pictures of white girls. Also, I got burned by a few gay teen novels that weren't very good. I'm much more selective now in my forays into YA.

This book is part of a genre that I suppose could be called "new dystopia" or "dystopia lite," in which the world, instead of being radically changed or post-apocalyptic, seems more or less the same as now — except for that one thing. (A convenient, efficient, and probably sometimes lazy way to explore a particular aspect of society and the human condition.) The reviews were good, and it has a gay theme, and points for diversity. I figured I'd give it a try.

Reviews mentioned the twist ending, which kind of ruined it for me, since it wasn't that hard to guess. Maybe it would have been more effectively twisty if I hadn't been expecting it. Overall, I give it a "meh," but I can see why it got positive reviews, and I do think teens would like it. The urban and low-income setting is convincingly rendered, and the main characters are mostly believable. Struggling to come to terms with one's sexual identity is rich territory for teen fiction. The story is somewhat sad and not completely resolved at the end.


 

Bitter Eden

by Tatamkhulu Afrika

I fully admit that I was mainly attracted to the cover...



...of the 2014 edition, which continues around the spine; I doubt I would have glanced twice at the 2009 edition...



...which isn't bad, but certainly less striking and not as obviously erotic.

And erotic this novel is, in its way, though it's more "gay vague" than actually gay. The story, which takes place in a series of WWII POW camps, has some minor openly gay characters — mostly objects of derision and disgust, occasionally grudging and reluctant respect — but the two main characters are at best situationally homophilic. In the end, however, the characters' actions raise some questions as to whether it could have been more in different circumstances, or if the intensity of the original circumstances created some lingering confusion and misplaced yearning.

All in all, it's a pretty solid book and an interesting look at the psychology of an all-male POW camp. The language is occasionally a bit old-fashioned, but don't worry about the slang (WWII, UK, South African), you can mostly skip over it or deduce its meaning. I don't know if this book is meant to be semi-autobiographical, but the author did spend time as a POW, and he had an interesting life besides.

Stuff: compulsive hoarding and the meaning of things

by Randy O. Frost

I've seen the Hoarders television show a few times. I think there might even be more than one TV series about hoarders. Even though gawking is the main point of such shows, they do convey a sense of the tragic nature of hoarding disorders. Where they fail is the therapeutic process, which they do very badly and also try to rush dramatically to create a narrative for the show.

This book is good for someone with a genuine curiosity about hoarding, but it's not for someone (such as a hoarder, or a relative or friend of a hoarder) with something at stake in the disorder. Its approach is more journalistic than scientific, and it discusses potential treatments in a general sense without purporting to provide any. So, yeah, if you read this you'll be gawking a little too, but in a much more dignified and respectful way.

Words of Devotion 1 & 2

by Keiko Konno

Meh. I usually like the "mature 18+" yaoi from this publisher, but this set was so-so. Full disclosure: I bagged and didn't actually read the second volume. The art wasn't great, pretty standard but with weird mouths. The story had potential but didn't seem to go anywhere, and the sex parts were rather tame. The first book also had a few side stories, unrelated to the main story, which I tend not to like unless they're really good.



 

The Story of Buildings: from the pyramids to the Sydney Opera House and beyond

by Patrick Dillon, with illustrations by Stephen Biesty

Being a children's book, this sampling of interesting buildings is brief and far from comprehensive. It is, however, an insightful and thoughtfully detailed look at not just the engineering aspects of architecture but also the social needs and aspirations represented in the structures we build.

The illustrations by Biesty are, of course, delightful. Some are large enough to require fold-out pages.

I thoroughly enjoyed this book. Good for kids grade 4 and up, as well as adults, with an interest in architecture.

Cows

by Matthew Stokoe

Not sure how I came across this book. Perhaps it was one of those times I was combing through the items on the library's website that were recently reviewed by other patrons. Somehow the descriptions of brutality and grossness and murder and talking cows caught my fancy instead of repulsing me.

I'd meant to copy the blurb off the back cover, which sums up this book so succinctly and better than I could, but I forgot to do so. The story is about a young man who has long suffered under the watchful eye of his horrible mother. He wants a life like the ones he sees on TV but doesn't know how to achieve it. He gets a job at a slaughterhouse (with a strangely lackadaisical attendance policy) and discovers a road to self-actualization through murder — and also talking cows, and bestiality.

The book is mercifully short. Not that it's poorly written, it's just really intense and rather disgusting. It isn't gratuitously or jokingly disgusting, however, like The Baby Jesus Butt Plug. This book is more along the lines of Chuck Palahniuk, perversity and depravity in the service of something literary.

The Yacoubian Building

by Alaa Al Aswany

I think I probably read about this book in the New York Times Book Review. I didn't read it immediately, but the review intrigued me enough that I did get around to reading it a couple years later.

Using the voices and stories of a variety of fictional residents in a real apartment building in downtown Cairo, the novel explores facets of Egyptian society that were/are considered taboo, such as homosexuality, and the open secrets of corruption and hypocrisy. It's initial publication caused a bit of a stir in the religious and relatively conservative country.

Though the book came out more than a decade ago, and the Arab Spring was five years ago, I imagine The Yacoubian Building still serves as a pretty accurate picture of contemporary urban Egyptian life. For that matter, though it's Egyptian in its details, it's also a pretty good picture of human nature, the (often hidden) complexities of modern life, and the diversity that lurks within seemingly homogeneous cultures.

Writing this review all these years later has solved a riddle of sorts for me. A while back, I was given a reader advisory practice question to suggest a book for someone who enjoyed Let the Great World Spin. One obvious approach, I figured, was to look for books that also have a variety of first-person viewpoints.  I couldn't come up with anything in the moment, and it's nagged at me for years. If I could have remembered The Yacoubian Building, it would have made an excellent answer to the challenge.

The Bell Jar

by Sylvia Plath

I feel a little weird saying so about this modern classic tale of mental illness and attempted suicide, but I found it to be a quick and breezy read. Sylvia Plath's only published novel is of a modest length, but the subject matter (based somewhat on her own experience, which is why she never meant for the book to be published in the United States) is intense and convincingly depicted. The easy readability must come from the protagonist's casual, conversational, relatable voice, which is also a factor contributing to the book's verisimilitude.

If I owned more books, instead of just borrowing them from the library, I'd put The Bell Jar on the shelf next to The City and the Pillar by Gore Vidal. Both are about young people struggling to understand their place in the world and to reconcile their own feelings and aspirations with society's expectations. Despite being written in 1946 and 1963, respectively, neither is dated (except in some details) and both speak to the angst and alienation felt at one time or another by most young adults.

Misbehaving: the making of behavioral economics

by Richard Thaler

I consider myself a pretty intelligent guy, but understanding economics has long been a struggle for me. A major sticking point is theory versus reality, which, in a nutshell, is where behavioral economics comes in. When people appear not to be acting as the perfectly rational agents (surprise) presumed by classical economic theories — for example, when they don't save for retirement even though they know they should, or make a rash gamble on a gameshow instead of going for the sure money — behavioral economics tries to find out why they don't. (And, as explained more thoroughly in the author's other book, Nudge, its insights can be used to craft government policies and business practices that make it easier and more likely that people will do the right thing.) People aren't always rational, so emotion needs to be taken into account, and people aren't all awesome at math (particularly statistics), so our false intuitions and misleading biases affect our behavior too.

Very unexpectedly, I laughed aloud while reading this book. I guffawed over the theory, devised by a Nobel Prize-winning economist, that young people will (naturally, instinctively, rationally) calculate their lifetime wealth and earnings and make judgements about how much to spend, and when to spend or save, so that they won't run out of money and might even be able to make bequests!

This book doesn't have any practical advice per se, but you could garner some strategies for recognizing and maybe correcting your own financial and economic misbehaviors. It's also not a deep study or even a catalog of the findings of behavioral economists. The author spends a fair amount of time talking about the people who are the scientists and economists, and about his own personal journey and career, which I suppose is meant to increase the appeal to the lay reader. For some readers it will; for me, I kinda wish I'd read a long (but much shorter than this book) article in a magazine such as Harper's or Atlantic Monthly.

Plastic: a toxic love story

by Susan Freinkel

Well, you can imagine how depressing a book like this can be. We're killing ourselves and the planet with our addiction to cheap plastic throw-away things, it might be too late to do much about it (even if we wanted to do so), and all we got was this demonic-looking deformed plastic Easter bunny from China.

But this book is also full of fascinating scientific and historical details and anecdotes, and it actually strikes a much more hopeful note than I've implied. (The pessimist is I, not the author.) Plus, plastic can't be all bad. Many modern marvels, such as life-saving medical devices, would not be possible without it. The writing quality is adequate to the task.

Men Undressed: women writers and the male sexual experience

edited by Stacy Bierlein, et al.

The premise of this book, women writing male characters in sexual situations, intrigued me. Doesn't take much effort to think of any number of counter-examples, male authors portraying female sexuality; nor does it take much imagination to guess at the ways male authors might project male sexual fantasies onto female characters and fail to present authentic female experiences of sex and desire. So, turnabout is fair play.

It's a collection of short stories and excerpts from longer works, so you get a couple gems, a few turds, and most in the middle. As a collection, I don't think it captured the best and most successful efforts by women writing male sexuality, so I wouldn't necessarily recommend it to someone with a casual curiosity. As a man, I found some of the characters' emotions or actions unconvincing, perhaps wishful thinking on the part of the authors — as I'm sure many women react to some instances of men writing female characters. If you want to take a more academic or critical look, however, a range of styles, scenarios, techniques and degrees of quality can be viewed as an asset for a book of this sort.

I wish I had a better memory of which stories I really liked... Best as I can recall, some of the good ones (IMHO) were "Mating in Captivity" by Nava Renek and "The Gift" by Kim Addonizio, but you'll have to judge for yourself.

Why I Killed Peter

by Olivier Ka and Alfred

This graphic novel about surviving childhood sexual abuse and confronting one's abuser was a bit of a disappointment. The storytelling and artwork are good, but the story itself somehow felt a bit hollow or something.

Supposedly the process of creating this work was part of the author's effort to purge a lot of negative emotion and come clean, so to speak. I couldn't help wondering, though, if he didn't hold back the whole truth of what happened to him. The experience he describes is very wrong and shouldn't have happened, of course, but it comes across as more creepy and uncomfortable than as something violently or violatingly sexual that would haunt someone as an adult. But I don't know what it's like, and I try not to begrudge anyone their emotional reactions to the things they experience. I just felt that, if he did hold something back, the omission or incomplete confession would undermine the stated mission of putting it all out there and letting it go.

Also, his attempt to confront his abuser as an adult was anticlimactic, apparently even for him.

Also, no one gets killed.

Big Machine

by Victor D. LaValle

I like when novels are about Big Ideas, but not if the story isn't up to snuff. I remember having mixed feelings about this story's paranormal and redemptive themes. Trying to remember it now puts me in mind of the television show American Horror Story, which is visually cool, has complicated characters, and richly detailed plot lines — but what for? What's my payoff for watching/reading?

I just looked up a summary (probably from the publisher, maybe the book jacket) that calls Big Machine "a fiendishly imaginative comic novel about doubt, faith, and the monsters we carry within us." I do not recall it being funny, but the rest rings true. The protagonist is a former addict and hustler questing for a raison d'être (not the meaning of life, just a meaning for his life).

I expected this book to be more like something by Colson Whitehead (I've read The Intutionist, and I've always meant to read Apex Hides the Hurt), and I got a whiff of Ralph Ellison's The Invisible Man, but it just wasn't as good. Or I didn't like it as much. Definitely headed in the right direction, but didn't quite take me there.

[Sidebar: Is it a micro-aggression if I only compare him to other Black authors? (Is that capital B another micro-aggression?) Although not entirely successful, in my estimation, this author is aiming to be in the company of Milan Kundera, Salman Rushdie, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, and other literary luminaries.]

The Martian

by Andy Weir

Loved-loved-LOVED this book! A gripping and exciting story combined with a tough, smart character who has humor and heart. I stayed up late and got anxious about the fate of our hero while reading this book about a guy marooned on Mars.

I've heard that some people found the science details to be boring or too difficult, but I felt they added a lot to the story and my sense of how difficult it was for the character to survive alone in a truly harsh and unforgiving environment. And if you don't like those parts, you can easily skim over them; it's not as if you need to check his math to understand the story.

I don't want to say much about the movie, but I'm really glad I read the book first. Not surprisingly, many things had to be left out of the film, and it did have some Hollywood schmaltz that wasn't in the book.

All in all, definite seal of approval for this smart, entertaining, enthralling book. Other than some cuss words, it is youth-friendly. I could see adolescent and teen boys really digging it.

Mayumi and the Sea of Happiness

by Jennifer Tseng

I probably only saw one review of this book, so I can't say for sure it's overrated, but it's definitely not a modern-day Lolita (another overrated book, IMHO). Mayumi and the Sea of Happiness does have some brilliant moments, but it's inconsistent and, at times, annoying. I did finish it, though, so ... B-minus?

The story is about a 41-year-old librarian in a cold, loveless marriage who has an affair with a 17-year-old library patron, whom she only ever calls "the young man." (At the end of the book, a big deal is made of her not saying his name.) She simultaneously befriends, or is befriended by, the young man's mother.

Personally, I found the coldness and loveless-ness of her marriage unconvincing, as it was only briefly explored; I guess the reader is just supposed to take her word for it, which seems problematic when we know the narrator will soon be on shaky moral ground.

Another weakness is the abundance of imagery used to describe Mayumi's emotional states and view of the world. I expected a more constant motif from a poet turned novelist. The switching between naturalistic and man-made imagery initially had me intrigued, hoping something interesting would develop from the juxtaposition, but it didn't pan out. The rather obvious ocean/island theme (she lives on an island, she feels adrift, she is and island) takes over.

Two-thirds through the book, an interesting twist occurs, forcing the reader and protagonist to re-evaluate her transgression. In a way it's just a minor detail, but the revelation surprised me enough that I exclaimed to an empty room. Ultimately, though, the effect on the character's sense of guilt is less than I expected. And another twist follows shortly, bringing things to a head and also cutting things off abruptly. Better to end an affair with a bang then a whimper, I guess.

The Bone Clocks

by David Mitchell

A classic tale of good vs. evil, with Mitchell's trademarks of plot complexity and interwoven multiple narratives, reprising themes of immortal souls and reincarnation from Cloud Atlas. The thrilling plot is at times excruciatingly, exquisitely drawn out and had me reading late into the night.

Unlike the more suggestive Cloud Atlas, in this book the reincarnation (and discarnation, if that's a thing) is explicit, so the story is less realistic — not that Cloud Atlas was all that realistic, but perhaps its imagined futures and pasts were more superficially plausible. Mysticism might be a good description for what's happening here, but nothing typically religious or New Age-y, though one important character/plot point does have ties to organized religion.

At times I almost wished I were reading an e-book so it would have been easier to re-trace the references from later in the book to things I remembered from earlier chapters. A lot of hints are dropped, and the author keeps quite a few balls in the air, so it could be a challenging read, but it's also very satisfying.

I don't recall if I'd realized it at the time, but just now reading a review of another of Mitchell's books, The Thousand Autumns of Jacob De Zoet, I realized that it and The Bone Clocks both have the same character named Marinus. I'm sure there must have been sly links to Cloud Atlas as well, and I'd like to think I would have detected them, but imperfect memory is one of the pitfalls of not writing reviews right away.

A Cure for Suicide

by Jesse Ball

An imaginative story, rather sad and melancholy, but also beautifully written. Like one of my favorites from 2013 (Sea of Hooks), it's a novel by a poet. Seriously, I almost cried, and some passages I had to re-read and savor several times.

When I first read a little review and synopsis, it sounded too far out there, but on second look I decided to give it a try. As an object, this book is strangely attractive: a simple cover of lovely blue with thin white lettering and a subtle leaf design, and it's not quite as wide as a standard hardcover book. (At least, I remember it being slim; I'm doubting my memory...)

The story seems to take place in a vaguely dystopian or maybe post-apocalyptic future, mainly because the first part unfolds in an isolated Village, part of a strictly ordered environment used to rehabilitate people from an unknown ailment that renders them in some ways childlike but with skills and understanding that are slowly recovered from a previous life.

As the reader starts to piece together what's happening through several iterations of Village life, the perspective shifts to another story, one that came before and explains how one character entered the Process of Villages. This part is a tale of heartbreak and immense sadness, and it recasts the earlier part in an even more tragic light. Finally, a coda of sorts returns to the Process of Villages and a series of fateful choices.

Definitely in my Top 10 of 2015.

The Imperial Cruise: a secret history of empire and war

by James Bradley

Great for history buffs, and I was really into it when I read it (about five years ago), but looking back the subject seems dry and unappealing: the United States government's shady dealings in the Pacific that helped set the stage for WWII — sigh. Have we ever not been a dick to the rest of the world? Teddy Roosevelt and his "big stick"; future president Taft, who was Secretary of War at the time, floating around the Pacific in a vessel that must have been much larger than the one in which he legendarily got stuck.

So, yeah, if you love history, this well-researched book gathers a lot of details that you'd miss in a basic history textbook or in an interwar or WWII history of broader scope. Must be decently engaging writing, because I don't remember it as a slog.

Cooking with Fernet Branca
     and
Amazing Disgrace
     and
Rancid Pansies

by James Hamilton-Paterson

I stumbled across Amazing Disgrace and read it first, not realizing it was in a series. I was initially intrigued because it's published by Europa Editions, and I've enjoyed a number of their other books. (Old Filth, for example, and they published The Elegance of the Hedgehog, which I haven't read but which was a big hit back when.) Their books have a distinctive look, which is how I noticed it.

Cooking with Fernet Branca came out first, in 2005, and Rancid Pansies came out in 2008. Assuming I read Amazing Disgrace close to when it was published in 2006, I took nearly a decade to read all three. No matter! The character at the center of all three books, Gerald Samper, is so memorable and so particular that one can jump right back into his world after a few years absence and not miss a beat. He's absolutely the sort of person I'd like to have for a friend.

He's a middle-aged British queen living in self-imposed exile in Tuscany. He's pompous and scathingly humorous toward others, but a jolly sort whose insults are (mostly) all in good fun. He's aware (but pretends not to be aware) of how ridiculous he himself is, while simultaneously being utterly certain of how exceptional he is. He's sarcastic and brilliant; he's me.

A Little Life
     and
The People in the Trees

by Hanya Yanagihara

I absolutely loved A Little Life. The story is really intense and sad, but the characters are so well-written. It's on the long side, but I read it pretty quickly; I really cared about the characters and wanted to know what would happen. A lot of bad things happen to good people in this book, so overall it's rather bleak. You will feel as if you've been gut-punched more than once.

One review I saw talked about the author straining credulity with how much trauma can be endured by one person, how long that person can cling to his suffering without breaking, and how many people around him can remain so open and caring for so long in the face of his refusal to heal. All true, but the author pushes everyone — characters and readers alike — to a point at which horrible seems somehow normal, which is an interesting feat to attempt.

I've described A Little Life as veering into Oprah's book club levels of tragedy, and at times I felt as if the author were piling on the traumas as a cheap or lazy way of firing the reader's emotions. Normally that would turn me off, but it's one of my top reads so far in 2015. It's also short-listed for a bunch of different awards, so I'm not the only one.

On the other hand... The People in the Trees came out in 2013, to some acclaim. I remember reading the jacket copy and not being into it. I reconsidered in light of how much I loved A Little Life, to my chagrin. No likable characters are in this book: the narrator of the wrap-around story (a foreword and afterword to the "memoir" that constitutes the bulk of the book) is underdeveloped and, frankly, baffling. The rest of the story is tightly focused on a monster of a character who's not even appealing in the way a dark anti-hero could be. The only thing that kept me reading was the slim hope that he might not be so despicable after all. No such luck.

I had wondered, with a bit of unease, while reading A Little Life what made the author come up with such twisted tortures for its main character. After reading The People in the Trees, I seriously asked myself what the hell is wrong with this lady? Little bit of a spoiler: don't read either of these if child sexual abuse is a "trigger" for you.

Captive Prince
    and
Prince's Gambit

by C.S. Pacat

I heard about these books from a friend who likes to read "gay relationship porn for mommies" — at least, that's the description I remember. They're stories of erotic tension, stressing the slow-burn and clashing of wills and building of tension, maybe with dominance/submission under- or overtones. She reads a lot of this sub-genre that's published online.

I never got around to reading this series she recommended until I saw the actual books come in at my library. I'm not too keen on e-books, and I always have some physical book(s) coming due and dictating what I read next, so I probably never would have read them online. Even having gotten my hands on the actual books, I didn't read them until they'd reached the maximum number of renewals.

But, oh, I'm sooo glad I finally read them — and I'm anxious for the third book to come out in early(?) 2016. I'd steeled myself for some bad writing that I was prepared to ignore if I felt like the story would be hot enough for my taste, but I was pleasantly surprised by decent writing and a solid story. I sailed through both books and got to some very rewarding sexy bits toward the end of the second. The main characters, both princes, are well-developed and are building an interestingly complicated relationship, calling into question the futures of both their kingdoms. What will happen in the third book?! It's simultaneously ridiculous and thrilling.

The Dinner

by Herman Koch

An enjoyable* and quick read about two couples having dinner and deciding what to do about an unfortunate situation involving their two sons.

*I hesitate to use the word "enjoyable" because this book has layers of creepiness that peel away to reveal worsening layers of sociopathy. The narrator initially presents himself as a good guy with an insufferable older brother. Soon you begin to realize he may be an unreliable narrator... and the dread keeps building until you realize he's not even the only monster in this story.

So maybe "compelling" is a better word. The writing is good enough to stimulate the suspense and feeling of sick fascination that propels the reader to the end, despite the realization that perhaps none of the characters are redeemable. But what wouldn't you do to protect those you love most?

The Road Not Taken: Finding America in the Poem Everyone Loves and Almost Everyone Gets Wrong

by David Orr

I'm not a huge fan of poetry, but every now and then I come across a poem that astonishes me. Robert Frost's "The Road Not Taken" astonished the eighth-grade version of me, but it turns out I fell for the popular and mostly incorrect interpretation of the poem.

Frost was a tricky guy, but his folksy farmer-poet image is still how most people see him. His most famous poem has a similar image problem. "The Road Not Taken" is not (or, is not only, is far from only) about taking the "road less travelled" because you're a maverick and a rugged individualist (special, American). A close and thoughtful reading reveals that the poem is more about the fraught moments of decision and the stories (and lies) we later tell ourselves about what those decisions meant and how they affected the course of our lives.

The title of the poem points to the road not taken, whereas the popular idea of the poem focuses on the road that is taken by the speaker, which is understood to be the road for special people, the one not taken by everyone else. Meanwhile, the speaker of the poem very clearly judges the two paths to be about the same, something the common misconception of the poem completely ignores. And that's just for starters.

Anyway, a definite thumbs up for this fascinating book about a poem that's much more complex, interesting and ambivalent than most people realize. Not very long, easy to get into. I found the last two sections less interesting than the earlier parts of the book.

NightS

by Kou Yoneda

Yaoi-ish manga collection, with one high school story, one about organized crime, and the best one of all: a series about an auto mechanic and a car salesman falling in love, even though neither has been attracted to men before. A little choppy in places, but the high school story is sweet, and the mechanic-salesman story is really sweet.

 Not at all as explicit as the warning on the cover would have you believe. There is out-and-out sex that happens, but it's drawn very discreetly compared to a lot of other yaoi labelled as "explicit."

My Queer War

by James Lord

Picked this up on a recommendation, so I wanted to like it. The story, being gay during WWII in the military, is very intriguing, but the writing was not to my taste. Florid, rococo even, like a dowager queer in a kaftan surrounded by chintz and chinoiserie. The killer? "Adjacent side street" -- c'mon, man! Of course it's adjacent if it's a side street. A superficial reason for not finishing the book, but life's too short to read books one is not enjoying.

The Mezzanine

by Nicholson Baker

Thank you to whomever recommended I read The Mezzanine by Nicholson Baker: intricately crafted, delicately structured, infinite yet contained, constrained, discrete — the novelistic equivalent of a ship in a bottle.

I've enjoyed a number of the author's other books, but if you've read some you'll also know that liking one of his is no guarantee of liking others. 

The Boy Detective Fails

by Joe Meno

A difficult book to like. While part of me wants to understand and empathize, I can't at the moment recall any fictional portrayals of the experience of mental illness that have really clicked with me, and remembering this books makes me wonder if any ever could. I really didn't care for it all, and I'm surprised that I actually finished it.

I Hope They Serve Beer in Hell

by Tucker Max

Terribly crass, but I liked it. Probably a weakness of character on my part, but sometimes I can be charmed by a smarmy frat boy who at least has some storytelling talent and some funny hijinx to relate. I don't know or care how much of it is true, and I don't care that I don't care. Imagine if David Sedaris were a bro. I chalk it up to bullshitting, as in talking without any real regard for truthfulness. I just put in a hold request for the sequel (he's got three books now), and I'm probably going to watch the movie of this one someday. Hell, I've even written my own zine collection of drinking stories called Blackout: The Search for Rock Bottom. Sue me... and screw you.

The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet

by David Mitchell

Another amazing book by one of my favorite authors. Quite different from his two(?) other books I've read, but still soooo good. It's historical fiction set in the time when the West was just barely interacting with Japan, and that only commercially under very controlled conditions. Throw in a forbidden romance and some Japanese almost-mythology, and the result is a deeply fascinating and dramatic story with wonderfully complex characters.

Highly recommended.

The Smart Swarm: how understanding flocks, schools, and colonies can make us better at communicating, decision making, and getting things done

by Peter Miller

While this book is briskly readable and thoroughly interesting, it suffers from the disease of hyperbole that afflicts many of the lengthily titled books referenced in its text. Books such as How Everything's Connected Because of YouTube and Why That's Going to Save Humanity Maybe Not as We Know It but Probably Better Because Ashton Kutcher Is Awesome Even if He Did Quit Tweeting, which I've made up, but you probably know what kind of book I'm lampooning.

The trap is that of the Enlightenment. We're figuring out all these new things, and it's looking as if we'll be able to solve every problem ever if we just apply this or that new paradigm in the right way. But no matter how much you fix stuff, people will find a way to fuck it up anyway — amiright?

All in all, though, it's nowhere near as bad as the connection-is-everything wisdom-of-the-crowd internet boosterism to which it irritatingly and persistently gives shout outs. The actual science bits, about analyzing swarm and colony behaviors, how they *sometimes* apply to human situations, are quite nice. The caveat, however, is delayed too long. Following the final chapter on the downside of swarms (for example, when they become mobs and crush people to death), the conclusion is very pragmatic and does a good job of couching the amazing discoveries in some much needed realism, but why is that only at the end?

It's not all at the end; there are a few earlier hints that termites are not our multitudinous messiahs. My favorite hint is when he talks about the movie Minority Report (a book first, of course, which he fails to mention) and points out how those future cops make very effective use of swarm-y robots to find Tom Cruise but the knowledge they needed to make the "spyders" clearly hasn't led to the elimination of poverty or a generally positive transformation of society.

But it's a good book. Self-organizing, collective, decentralized behavior in animals is truly fascinating and fertile ground, and this is an excellent introduction for those with low to medium science prowess. I recommend this book. It just has a few things that are particularly irritating to me. But they can be overlooked. In a way, I'm glad for its shortcomings, as I've found my new peeve word (a phrase, technically): not unlike.