Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing by Judy Blume

I'm a little embarrased to admit that I'd never read a Judy Blume book. I know Superfudge and Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret were big hits when I was growing up. But I never picked them up, despite the fact I read a lot at that age.

And now, I have a son in 4th grade. And he was reading Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing. So I decided to read it too. And here's my takeaway: 

Fudge is a terrible human being. Case in point: Fudge eats Peter's turtle, which makes him a monster. Full stop.

This book is supposed to be about Peter, but his 2 1/2  year-old brother Fudge consumes his life with awful, out of control behavior. And poor Peter has to constantly adjust and cater to it. It is so on brand that even a book about Peter ends up being about his annoying litter brother. 

Peter is well-behaved, hard-working, and responsible. His parents constantly ask him to do things to appease Fudge, or to stand aside while Fudge takes the limelight, or to redo his school project because Fudge destroyed it. 

I guess I had feelings while reading this book. I don't know if it's supposed to be funny, but I couldn't stop feeling bad for poor Peter while wanting to strangle Fudge. So I asked my fourth grader what he thought of the book and he agreed, "that kid's so annoying!"

So it's not just me or my adult perspective. Fudge is more horror villain than comedic device. But it made me feel something. And I guess that's the sign of a successful book, for better or worse. 

The Hidden Hand or Capitola the Madcap by E.D.E.N. Southworth

FLAMES AND FURIES!

Get ready for hundreds of pages of exclamations, ejaculations, and interjections! But really, there is a lot of ejaculating in this book. 

The Hidden Hand was originally published in the 1850s in serialized form, but later published as a book in 1888. This is an overly dramatic, noir-styled, mustachioed twirling romp in which the characters only seem to speak in all caps and exclamation points. And to give you a feel of the writing, I will be ejaculating several times throughout this review.

HOITY TOITY!

The book is named for Capitola, our brave and bold heroine. She is independent and bucks societal norms. And by page 100, I was thinking we hadn't heard much about her.

PISH! TUSH! PSHAW!

The book is also about an old curmudgeony man who adopts Capitola after learning of her from a woman on her deathbed. 

HORRIBLE HORRIBLE! 

And we learn about several others whose lives are so intermingled you might need a venn diagram to parse them out, but it all comes together in the end, if only because of a series of strange coincidences.

POOH POOH, NONSENSE!

There are of course villians, soliloquies, and plenty of humphs. 

HEAVEN OF HEAVENS NO!

And if you are short on how to describe people, this is your book.

YOU ARE A PERFECT DRAGON! A GRIFFIN! A RUSSIAN BEAR! A BENGAL TIGER! A NUMIDIAN LION!

Despite the constant ejaculating and age of the story, it was surprisingly easy to read. But after reading over 300 pages, I think it's safe to say, this is not my genre. While I'm proud of myself for finishing it and reading something completely out of my wheelhouse, I'm not sure this is a book I'd recommend given all the other options out there. 

Circe by Madeline Miller

Whether or not you know anything about Greek Mythology is irrelevant when it comes to reading Circe. You could go in cold, like I did, or with a vast knowledge of the myths.  

If, like me, you thought of Greek myths as being about otherwordly beings who have little in common with mortals, you may be pleasantly surprised by this book. Miller makes the gods human, accessible, fallible, and vulnerable. And I guess anyone who knows anything about these stories might already know that, but I didn't. 

Circe is the daughter of Helios, who is the Sun God. She lives in a house occupied by many nymphs, or cousins, essentially. Although there are many things that are unusual about her upbringing (she is a goddess, after all), she also faces many things normal people face - mean siblings, crushes, jealousy. Circe grows up, not really having any indication that there is anything unusual about her, besides her upbringing and place in society. If she loves a mortal who is poor, for instance, she can go to a powerful relative on his behalf to better his life, but she seems unable to do much on her own. Yet Circe dabbles in the power of farmacia, mixing herbs into potions, and soon realizes strange things happen when she does.

Circe's creative use of farmacia eventually results in her forced isolation on an uninhabited island, Aiea. It is here she develops her skills in witchcraft, making potions and salves to cater to various needs that arise. She develops a skill for transformations, and has wolves and lions as her companions. She occasionally has visitors, like Hermes, who give her company and news of the outside world. She also hosts lost and seaworn sailors who land on her island, most notably the warrior Oedipus, who tells stories of the Trojan war and his conquests. She is even given a reprieve from her solitude when her sister Pasiphae summons Circe to help Pasiphae give birth to a son, who eventually becomes the minotaur.

I didn't realize how many of these stories I knew, at least peripherally. I also didn't realize how intertwined all these stories were. What I like about Circe is how Miller seamlessly relates all these tales in this one narrative. And throughout all these stories, we learn a bit about what it is like to be immortal and how immortal beings view mortal ones - as brief interruptions in their greater world. She also did a great job showing the gods and titans as beings who, despite their immortality, are just as petty, if not more so, than mortals. She really brings the drama of the gods and titans to this book like a great soap opera that's been running for centuries.

But unlike a soap opera, the writing is beautiful, almost wistful at times. Circe, although much maligned (it seems) is relatable and you want her to succeed in everything she does. She is a goddess who started out as a nymph and toiled to greatness, despite her solitude. In fact, she might have made the best bottle of wine from those sour grapes and we get to enjoy it with her in this beautifully told story.

Scenes of the Crime by Jilly Gagnon

This is a classic beach or vacation read, with I Know What You Did Last Summer vibes but. You know, I say that, but I haven't read that actual book. I might have watched the movie a looooong time ago though.

Ok, there are major differences probably. But we have a group of friends, including Emily, who lost their friend Vanessa one fateful night at her family winery conveniently high up on a treacherous ocean cliff. At Emily's suggestion, several years later, the friends reunite. 

Emily's motives aren't completely benevolent. Sure, she wants closure, which she doesn't feel she has, especially since she thinks she saw Vanessa recently at a coffee shop. But as a way of dealing with the tragedy, Emily, who is a writer for a popular sitcom, is also working on a manuscript of the fateful weekend. But, and this may surprise you, Emily's recollection of the events might not be entirely accurate. And she thinks her friends might be able to fill in some of the details. So she needs to get everyone together to figure out what happened...and to finish her manuscript, which, by the way, we have the pleasure of reading as a stand in for some of the chapters. I guess it's a variation of the multiple perspective narrative trope. 

But these women weren't really all that close, it seems. And besides not being the best of friends, they're not the most likeable either. So when they spend a weekend reuniting, you also get to experience the "ugh, I don't really like these people, why am I spending a weekend with them?" vibe. 

But don't get me wrong, it's not terrible, but it's not super memorable either. It's one of those books that you read when you want a light thriller to pass the time. At least we spend this weekend in a high-end winery in a quaint town and are oft encouraged to relax and enjoy a glass. And while it's not essential to get through the book, it might take the edge off and help pass the time. 

Negative Space by Gillian Linden

"No one is suggesting anyone should react to anything in any particular way."

I think that is the guiding principle of many people who, whether they realize it or not, end up showing tolerance and ambivalence at the same time. And it sums up how I felt about this book.

When I first started listening to this book, I thought the narrator was a teenager. She is timid, insecure, anxious, questioning of every little thing around her. I soon realized she is a teacher at the school, not a student. And listening to her thoughts is so irritating at times, I wasn't surprised when her own daughter commented she wished some random woman was her mother. Just a casual example of how little her own family regards her.

This woman, who isn't even of consequence enough to have a name, seems like the kind of person who walks around with a frown and perpetually furrowed brow. Even her peers treat her like a child in need of  placation. Thankfully, we are only spared to walk in her shoes for a week. And nothing is resolved, but I get the feeling that's the point. She constantly questions and worries about everything while the world goes on around her.  

I'm not sure I get this book. It's a quick read and handles interesting topics, like post-pandemic life, specifically in a school setting. There is also the question of possible inappropriate advances from a teacher to a student. And we have issues with anxiety and what life can be like for someone who suffers from it.

But the story unfolds in such an undramatic way, I was surprised when it ended, but also a little relieved that I didn't have to endure this person's company anymore. While I can't say I regret reading Negative Space, I'm not sure I'd recommend it either.

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes by Suzanne Collins

Did you know Panem was pronounced "PAN-EM?" I sure didn't. You emphasize both syllables apparently. That's a benefit of listening to the audio book. But you know what might not be a benefit of an audiobook? Hearing a man trying to do female voices. 

Now, I'll admit that I listen to audio books at a fast pace, which obviously affects the vibe. But I couldn't help think that the females in this book sounded like female South Park characters. And it gets worse when some of those characters sing. To be fair, the narrator doesn't actually sing but listening to him quote the lyrics of songs while doing a female South Park impersonation is...strange. Suffice to say, I wasn't moved by any of the lyrics and I wonder if the experience would have been different if I were just reading them myself. 

I don't know, I feel like the lyrics to a lot of the songs sounded...basic. But honestly that's probably true of a lot of great songs. If you want to judge for yourself, you can hear all the songs on The Hunger Games website. I'm going to have to check that out as well as the movie.

Things I liked: There was a hunger games, but that wasn't what the whole book was about. We get an understanding of how the Hunger Games got to where they are once the Trilogy starts. I also hated Dr. Gaul, but in the way you love hating something. I also liked the lore about the Jabberjays and Mockingjays.

Things I didn't like: Pretty much any scene with a song. It seemed strange that Lucy Gray would perform on stage after being selected for the reaping. I get it in terms of her character and the plot and blah blah blah. But it just didn't resonate with me. It was not a realistic reaction or one that really solicited sympathy for her situation. But maybe I'm missing the point.

I also didn't like the idea of the Covey - a nomadic group without a real district to call home. That diluted the impact of the reaping for me. It seemed like Collins was trying to distance the Covey from the districts, almost to the point of saying they didn't deserve to be a part of the reaping. But is that to then say that people from the districts did?

And while the book is mostly about Cornelius Snow, I don't feel we really got to know him as a person. Sure, we learn about his family history and his actions and thoughts about things, but he still seemed two dimensional to me. I'm not sure if I was supposed to like him or not, but I was kind of ambivalent. There weren't many characters I liked, not even Lucy Gray. 

It's interesting in terms of getting background on the hunger games and Panem. But it's probably my least favorite of the series. And I would suggest reading the book, not listening to it. 

The Girl with All the Gifts by M. R. Carey

This is a book best discovered blind, without knowing the plot or even genre. But if you already know, or don't mind mild spoilers, read ahead. 

"That's Pandora...she was a really amazing woman. All the gods had blessed her and given her gifts. that's what her name means, the girl with all the gifts. So she was clever and brave and beautiful and funny, and everything else you'd want to be. But she just had the one tiny fault, which was that she was very, and I mean very, curious."

This is a book that, on its face, is about an apocalypse. But it's also about well-meaning people who make mistakes. Is there a pandemic? Yeah. Is there a quest to find a cure? Of course. Are there great explanations for its cause and future prognosis? Yup.  

But what I like are the characters, and the fact that there aren't really good guys or bad guys. While there are those who seem like they fit one category or the other, Carey blurs those lines and gives her characters more dimension as you get further in. 

"The infection was bad...so were the things that the important decision people did to control the infection, And so was catching little children and cutting 'em into pieces. Even if you're doing it to try to make medicine that stops people being hungries. It's not just Pandora who had that inescapable flaw. It seems like everyone has been built in a way that sometimes makes them do wrong and stupid things."

Much like Pandora, whose legacy is really maligned, Carey describes her as a gifted, wonderful person, with just a tiny flaw. But aren't we all like that? And the more I thought about it, the more I realized Carey isn't just making this comparison to one character. I saw Pandora in a lot of her characters. She has many who are gifted in their own way with their own flaws that, some would argue, are worse than others. How will each be remembered? What is their legacy? And I think whether the legacy is good or bad depends on who survives the apocolypse that has unfolded.

It's a thought provoking read and also just a really great story. There is also a movie that is pretty good as well, but barely scratches the surface when it comes to covering what is in the book. There is also a prequel, The Boy on the Bridge that came later. Might be worth checking out.

The Invisible Life of Addie Laroux by V. E. Schwab

Addie Laroux was born in the 1690's in France. Paradoxically, her very normal life led her to the most abnormal of circumstances. Facing the shackles of marriage and domestic county life, Addie ran into the woods and prayed for her freedom. In her haste, she appealed to whichever god would listen. But in her desperation, she also prayed after the sun went down, and forgot a warning to never pray to the gods who answer after dark.

And it was Luc who answered. Make no mistake, while Luc often took the seductive form of Addie's sketches of an unknown lover, Luc was no mortal. And it wasn't in benevolence he answered Addie's prayer. He required a contract from her. So Addie agrees to submit to Luc when she no longer desires the freedom he will grant her. And she does live in freedom, which includes the possibility of immortality, but also the curse that no one will ever remember her.

The logistics of this curse are very complicated. Addie can meet the same people over and over again because they don't remember her once they turn away from her. Her family doesn't recognize her anymore, and intimate relationships last only as long as the other person stays awake. Addie isn't able to own anything, partially due to landlords not remembering renting her rooms, but also due to the curse - she loses anything she acquires. Even worse, she cannot say her name or write or draw anymore. It seems she cannot leave a permanent mark on the world.

But Addie finds ways to do this. Whether it's in a song that haunts a musician, or paintings of an unknown girl by an artist, Addie indelibly leaves a mark, as distinct as the constellation-like pattern of freckles on her face. 

Through the years, Addie is visited by Luc, who tempts her to end their deal. Like a true devil in disguise, he is both seductive and horrifying, and beautifully written. Any scene with Luc is intoxicating and you quickly understand how Addie hates Luc, but also is drawn to him nonetheless. 

By the time Addie meets Henry, in New York, about 300 years later, she has learned how to adapt to her circumstances. She finds places to stay each night, sometimes even with a companion, and because no one remembers her, she is able to steal almost everything she needs. So imagine her surprise when one day, she returns to a bookstore Henry works at and he remembers that she stole a book the day before.

Is it a glitch? What makes Henry so different from the multitude of people Addie has met over the last 300 years around the world? And what will Luc think about this turn of events?

This is a great book on its own, but I listened to the audio book and loved Julia Whelan's narration. She brought the characters to life and took an amazing story and made it even better. The writing has a lyrical quality that can make you feel like your're dreaming or caught in a bitter nightmare. A definite recommend.

1984 by George Orwell

Despite being 75 years old, this novel holds up remarkably well.

I think people can relate 1984 to a variety of things in their lives - an abusive family life, an impossible workplace, or even the society in which they live. But the book is actually about a dystopian future society (which was 1984 according to Orwell, who wrote this novel in 1949). After an atomic war in the 50's, the world condensed itself into three nation states: Eurasia, Oceania, and East Asia.

Airstrip One, formerly Britain, is a province of Oceania, which is run by the Brotherhood - a nebulous entity without a visible, known leader, but only the mysterious Big Brother who is constantly watching you. The society has four main branches - the Ministry of Truth, which deals with news, education, entertainment and fine arts, the Ministry of Plenty, which deals with economic affairs, the Ministry of Peace, which deals with war, and the ministry of Love, which maintained law and order - and was the really frightening one.

If you can't tell already, Big Brother is a study in contradictions. It's the tormenting sibling who declares  it's opposite day or the annoying co-worker who takes contrarian views just to be a troll. Take the party's slogans, for instance: War is peace, freedom is slavery, ignorance is strength. 

As an employee of the Ministry of Truth, for instance, Winston edits newspapers, inserting the "truth" as the Ministry sees it and destroying older, contradictory copies of news reports. Down into the memory hole they go (sadly, I'm not talking about a good night out on the town). Winston might be instructed to declare that Oceania is now at war with East Asia, and has always been, which requires a lot of rewriting and editing to remove any reference to the previous war with Eurasia.  

"All others accepted the lie which the party imposed, if all records told the same tale, then the lie passed into history and became truth. Who controls the past, ran the party slogan, controls the future, who controls the present controls the past." 

This was known as "reality control" or "double think" and is one of the most infuriating concepts I've heard. I was also surprised to learn it wasn't something invented by my boss.

The Brotherhood not only sought to control society's behavior, but every aspect of life, including  language, adopting a language called "newspeak" that slowly and systematically eroded standard English. Each revision of the dictionary involved removing "extraneous" words and simplifying language: 

"Take good for instance, if you have a word like good, what need is there for a word like bad? Ungood would do just as well. Better because it's an exact opposite, which the other is not. Or again if you want a stronger version of good, what sense is there in having a whole string of vague, useless words like excellent or splendid and all the rest of them. 'plus good' covers the meaning, or 'double plus good' if you want something strong still."

The society's prevailing ideology is EngSoc, or English Socialism. It is a society in which private life came to a halt, private money didn't exist, people called each other comrade, were constantly surveilled, and gathered for monthly hangings - so it may surprise you to hear there are no laws - in fact nothing was illegal. But somehow the Brotherhood still manage to punish people for things like face crime (not having the right expressions in response to something) or thought crime (which can lead to future crimes). Any disobedience resulted in correction, which could include forced labor camps and even vaporization.

This brings me to the great words of Princess Leia, who warned Tarkin, "The more you tighten your grip, the more star systems will slip through your fingers." And while Oceania is a lot smaller than a star system, you get the point. Not everyone will fall in line.

And we find one of those falling stars in Winston, who, in a subtle act of rebellion bought a diary and started recording his misgivings about Big Brother. Worse yet, he found himself falling in love. Marriage had to be approved and was less likely to be approved if the couple were attracted to each other, which didn't bode well for Winston and Julia. And working in the Ministry of Truth, he knew the outright lies that the Brotherhood espoused, but didn't understand the reasoning behind it all - until he reads a manifesto written by the Brotherhood's greatest enemy, a man named Goldstein.

In his book, Goldstein breaks down the rationale behind EngSoc - the division of classes, the constant need for war, and how the inner party manages to stay on top. The mental gymnastics are so complex, they make Simone Biles look like an amateur. And although this book within a book put Julia to sleep, I found it fascinating.

1984 is a heavy read, and sadly a relevant one. There are elements of the Brotherhood in societies today. And while Winston's story is interesting, I feel like it is more a subplot compared with the overarching ideas of the Brotherhood and EngSoc. Winston's story is a small piece of what a society as a whole faces when the wrong people take power. And while I could quit my job and run for the hills if things got too bad, when bad people get numerous and high enough in a government, there may be nowhere to run. 1984 is a cautionary tale that we would be wise to heed, in 1949, 1984, and today.

Dune by Frank Herbert

I can't say if I liked the movie or the book better. I fell asleep during the first (new) movie and I'm just meh about the book.

I don't know, the story was fine. It's grand in scope, literally spanning the universe, but dealing mostly with one planet, the sand planet of Arrakis, inhabited by the Fremen and spaceship eating sandworms that produce something called, spice, which is necessary for interplanetary travel. Herbert writes about the struggle for power over Arrakis between two powerful families, the Harkonnens and the Atraeides while also throwing in corporate interests, the emporer's military force (the Sardaukar), and a quasi-religious order called the Bene Gesserit.

I enjoyed the chapters more that were about the Harkonnens. They just seem like the more dysfunctional, interesting family. There's more intrigue and plotting and dinner parties. When we are on Arrakis with Paul and Jessica, who are Atraeides, it's dust and worms and honor killings and spitting. And the obsession with water! I get it, but I just got sick of the "giving water to the dead" and "taking their water" and the nose plugs. I just can't with the nose plugs.

I will say, I feel there was a real missed opportunity to come up with various terms for sand. On a planet where everything is so dry and sandy, shouldn't there be a multitude of terms for the various iterations of sand? Like how Inuits have dozens of terms for ice? Shame.

And what's with the names? You have some great names like the Harkonnens and the Atreides, and Arrakis. These are names I've never heard before. They help take me out of normal life and bring me to this new society and world order, but then you have Paul and Jessica for your two main characters. Like what? That douchey guy I met back in college and one of the Sweet Valley twins? C'mon. That's just lazy naming. I don't get it.

And I'm hoping I'm premature with this, since there are a multitude of books after this one, but why, in an ancient, mysterious, mystical sisterhood, which prophesies a chosen one, would it end up being a dude...named Paul? There's already a whole savior complex vibe going on with the outsiders coming into the native population and saving them, so it's really rubbing dirt/sand/spice into the wound when Paul is the apparent savior and not his female relatives. But as this article points out, that might be the reaction Herbert intended. 

Maybe I'm just nitpicking here. I didn't hate it. And it sounds like subsequent books further explore the issues and pitfalls of Paul's rise to power. While overall, I think there are a lot of interesting ideas worth talking about, I'm not ready for a long-term commitment to this series. I might just try the second movie instead - but I don't care what you think about Timothee Chalamet, he still looks gross with the nose plugs.

Heart Shaped Box by Joe Hill

"Buy my step-father's ghost." You'd think this was a novel idea, but it is something you can find on ebay today. I was going to link something here but got the heebie jeebies just searching for haunted items and don't need the bad vibes right now. Although I have to wonder, does it increase the value of an item to describe it as haunted? In either case, buyer beware!

Heart Shaped Box is Hill's first full-length novel, published in 2007 (he also published a collection of short stories two years prior to this called 20th Century Ghosts). I had read Hill's Horns and liked it. I have also heard good things about Nos4A2, but haven't gotten my hands on it yet. In the meantime, Heart Shaped Box landed on my bedside table.

The owner of said box is Jude Coyne, a rock star who likes to collect macabre items like the skull of a trepanned peasant which makes for a good pencil holder, apparently. And after looking up what trepanning is, I get it. So when he sees an ad for a ghost, he can't resist, throws caution to the wind, and goes all in with the "buy-it-now" button - to hell with bidding! Of course, the seller doesn't believe souls can be sold, so they send the dead man's suit, hoping the ghost will follow.  

Jude quickly starts experiencing strange things. Some subtle, like how his girlfriend pricks herself on an unseen pin in the suit, and some more obvious, like seeing a man sitting in the chair in his hallway. The action starts quickly and doesn't let up in this story. And Hill is great at taking fairly mundane things, like describing eating a chocolate covered cherry, and turning it into something macabre - like biting into an eyeball.

This is a fun story about a haunting, but it also involves deeper questions about the things that tie people to one another, in this case death. Through his characters, Hill addresses various stages of death - pre with Coyne's love interests, post a la the ghost, and peri through Coyne's father who is on his deathbed. Hill explores how decisions you make in life can affect all of these stages. 

I am of two minds about this book. There are some really great things going on that I dig - like how Hill can transition so quickly and seamlessly into horror. While I wouldn't describe the book as scary, it definitely has satisfyingly creepy moments and the pacing of the story is just right. There aren't long lulls in the action. 

But there are other things that give me the ick - like a scene that mixes violence and sex, references to a snuff film, child sexual abuse, and the ~30 years age difference between Jude and his girlfriend.  

So while I think overall it's better than it was worse, consider yourself warned!

Slenderman: Online Obsession, Mental Illness, and the Violent Crime of Two Midwestern Girls by Kathleen Hale

In 2014, in Wisconsin, a young girl was nearly killed. There were a number of reasons this case was unusual, but among the top were that it was perpetrated by two 12-year old girls and that the apparent motive revolved around the fictional and internet-famous Slenderman.

While this sounds fascinating, it was less about Slenderman and more about the delusions kids can talk themselves into. What was more relevant is the fact that one of the two girls was experiencing undiagnosed schizophrenia at the time. It was a perfect storm of mental illness, impressionable underdeveloped brains, and a fascination for the macabre that culminated in the near death of 12-year old Peyton Lautner on her twelfth birthday.

This true-crime novel is told mostly from the perspective of one of the offenders, Morgan Geyser. This is due, in part, to the Geyser family's willingness to work with Kathleen Hale on the book. But Hale still does her research and provides an in-depth account of the events leading up to, during, and after the attack. But because of the fact that Lautner's family didn't work directly with Hale, her perspective and struggles through these events are not as prominent as the experience of the offenders. 

With that in mind, I found Hale's analysis of Geyser's experience in custody terrifying as a parent. The roadblocks Geyser faced in getting medical care were an additional tragedy that is probably all too common in any U.S. detention system. And depending on your personal beliefs, you may also find it tragic that two 12-year old girls were interrogated without legal counsel and found to be tried as adults for their crimes.

You may go into this one thinking you'll learn about a horrific crime, but you'll also come away with a horrifying look at our criminal justice system, especially for juveniles.

 

In An Absent Dream (Wayward Children #4) by Seanan McGuire

If you aren't familiar with this series, it begins with Every Heart a Doorway, a novella about Eleanor West's Home for Wayward Children. West runs a boarding school for children who have been to other worlds and returned unable to readjust to regular life. Every Heart a Doorway introduces a lot of children who have traveled to these worlds, but doesn't really flesh out individual stories.

McGuire's subsequent books explore these individual stories. One of the great things about this series is that you don't really have to go in order. While there are some threads between books, you really can read them as stand-a-lone books.

In an Absent Dream is the story of Katherine. She's a rule-following girl who always listens to adults and does what is expected of her. Her father is her elementary school's Principal. And because of this, Katherine finds it hard to make and keep friends and feels disconnected with her family. One day, she strays from her normal path home and finds a door in the trunk of a tree. Of course she decides to see what is inside.

Beyond this door, Katherine discovers the Market, which has rules that must be followed based largely on fair value and making and keeping agreements. As a young child, she is given leeway in the agreements she makes and others are allowed to take on debt she incurs. She develops a friendship with another girl and is mentored by a mother-like figure during her visit, which eventually ends.

Upon returning to the normal world, Katherine, who now goes by her surname, Lundy, tries to adjust to normal life. The mystery of her disappearance is an open secret by those around her, except to maybe her father, who seems to know something about her experience. 

As she grows older, Lundy travels back and forth between worlds, learning more about the Market and the importance of paying back debts, including those her dear friend took on during Lundy's first visit. But Lundy also develops a deeper relationship with her sister, and subsequent visits to the market are interrupted as Lundy travels back to keep commitments to her family.  Lundy knows however, that the flexibility given children by the Market will soon fade and she will eventually be forced to decide between the two worlds.  

In An Absent Dream is a short story about another world that might not be perfect, but might be just what Lundy is looking for. It's interesting and dark and fun to read about, but I feel that there is a certain spark that is missing that could elevate this book to a higher level. I'm not sure what exactly it is: that the books are too short to dig deeper, or that the Market isn't a world that speaks to me. 

One of my criticisms about Every Heart a Doorway was that the individual stories weren't fleshed out enough so I appreciate these individual stories. While I feel there could be a lot more said about Lundy's world, I think what we got was just enough to get the point across in this short story.

Blindsight by Peter Watts

This book was so good, I read it twice. And I don't mean, I read it years ago and wanted to read it again. No, I read it (or rather, listened to it) about a week ago, finished it feeling I hadn't retained much, and then immediately re-read it. 

On the first go, I was constantly confused about what was going on and who the various characters were. I couldn't even really say what the basic plot was. This probably isn't making my case that this is a good book, and I wasn't feeling that way either. But despite this, I realized I was never bored while listening, and I liked a lot of the ideas I heard, it was just so dense with information that anytime I tried to multitask, I'd miss something (one of the pitfalls of listening to my books instead of reading them).

So I checked some blogs online, brushed up on the basic plot and characters, and tried again. This time, I focused on really paying attention, cut out the multitasking, and it paid off.

Blindsight is a hard science fiction book, written in 2006 by Peter Watts. It's full of interesting concepts like, well, blindsight, first of all, which is the ability to perform a task without consciousness. An example given in the book occurs when a person is temporarily blinded, yet is able to react to visual stimulus. This article, from the BBC, explains the concept much better: 

"Just how many of our decisions occur out of our awareness, even when we have the illusion of control? And if the conscious mind is not needed to direct our actions, then what is its purpose? Why did we evolve this vivid internal life, if we are almost 'zombies' acting without awareness?"

This quote could have been pulled directly from Watts' book. In fact, he also brings up the concept of zombies in a similar context. Watts explores consciousness as an abnormal, evolutionary quirk. Perhaps, humans are flukes of nature, slowed by our sense of self. Could there be intelligent life that isn't self-aware? What benefit to survival does consciousness actually provide?

Watts also includes concepts of AI, the observer effect, von Neumann machines, Turing machines, game theory, and even vapirism.

All is presented in the context of a society that is a few years away from achieving a single consciousness. The need for bodies is fast in decline - people can upload themselves to "heaven" while their bodies lay in storage, sex in the first person is considered old-fashioned, body modifications include brain treatments and tweaks, and alterations abound that basically turn people into biomachines.

Our narrator, Siri Keeton, underwent a hemispherectomy as a child to treat epileptic seizures. The debilitating surgery took most of his ability to have emotions, but enabled him to become a synthesist - someone who takes vasts amounts of complex information and relays it to others in a coherent way. 

In 2082, the fireflies came. The world was awash in light due to alien probes that surrounded Earth and took a picture of its entire surface. Earth responded by sending Siri and four others (not including their backups, who would remain in stasis unless needed), to follow a signal believed to be coming from a comet. Blindsight begins with the crew waking up five years into their  journey, having gone off course, and severely overslept.

Their ship is Theseus, which is described anthropomorphically and run by an AI captain. It has some kind of user interface that all the crew can interact with called ConSensus that allows them to upload and share information and communicate remotely. Theseus's AI communicates exclusively with Jukka Sarasti, a vampire who has been resurrected from the Pleistocene era, to command the crew. There is also Isaac Szpindel, the biologist and physician, who can hear X-rays and see in shades of ultrasound. Then there is Amanda Bates, whose military background provides expertise relevant to the ship's and crew's physical security. Finally, we have the "gang of four." This is a person who had multiple personalities induced - the primary personality being Susan James, a linguist. Also inhabiting the same body is Michelle (another synthesist), Sascha (I'm not sure of her specific role), and Cruncher, a male who mostly stays in the background, well, crunching data.

The crew can all be considered altered in various ways, so much so, a normal person wouldn't be able to comprehend interactions between them, which might occur in various languages and even without known language, which would seem nonsensical to a layperson. "No real scientist would allow their thoughts to be hamstrung by  conceptual limitations of a single language...It's just that once you get past a certain point, formal speech is too damn slow!" So it is Siri's job to observe and understand everyone's intentions and relay this information back to mission command. 

Theseus travels to Big Ben, a quantum particle as heavy as 10 jupiters. There they encounter Rorshach, a sort of civilization? Factory? Well, they're not so sure, so they attempt to make contact. Unfortunately for them, Rorshach is rife with radiation that means any forays into its environs result in radiation sickness, which can include physical symptoms such as blindness, tumors, and eventually, death, but also psychological symptoms reminiscent of hauntings, loss of self, and possession. Each trip to Rorshach requires the crew to spend time in the ship's medical bay, healing from the effects of their trip. And then they do it all over again.

If you're still with me in this review, it means you're finding these concepts as fascinating as I did. I'd recommend this book to you with one caveat - it's dense and requires your full attention. Save yourself the second read-through and pay attention the first time around. You'll be better for it.

And for some extra fun, check out Watts' website. He has extra content relevant to the book as well as some of his novels available in their entirety. I checked out Blindsight and found there were notes and references that provided fun information like a primer on vampires and the physiology of the aliens encountered. I'm kinda annoyed that wasn't a part of my audiobook. I also found some great art made for various versions of the book, and learned there is a sequel to Blindsight, called Echopraxia, so it was definitely worth a look.

The September House by Carissa Orlando

 

Have you seen the show Ghosts? It's a campy sitcom about a woman who sees ghosts in her house and has learned to live with them. This is kinda like that, but a lot more macabre, and a lot more funny!

If it isn't bad enough to live in a haunted house, try living in this haunted house in September! The ghosts act up more than usual, the walls bleed profusely, and forget about sleeping, with all the moaning and screaming. But Margaret is resigned to this. She's learned to adapt, ignore, and tolerate all the goings on. She's tried the usual remedies: priests, microfiche research, ouija boards, digging up bones, and more. But eventually things go back to the way they were, and of course, there's always September.

Take Elias, for example. The boy who doesn't speak but howls, and bites if you get too close. Margaret has learned to just treat him like a plant, narrating her life around him, while expecting no response in return. And it works! Unless she gets too close of course, but shame on her for crossing his boundaries. Margaret understands that if she follows the rules, bites will be kept to a minimum. 

In this way she has managed to figure out what triggers each ghost. If you don't want the upstairs bedroom ghosts to crawl out of the fireplace, don't start a fire! Easy! And sometimes avoidance is best, which is the case for Master Vale, who lives in the basement. The Bible pages attached to the back of the door seem to be doing the trick, as long as the door stays boarded up. 

By playing by the rules, Margaret has learned to coexist in this crowded house. But her husband, Hal, isn't quite as understanding and leaves. And this is news that she can only hide from her daughter, Katherine, for so long. Eventually, Katherine insists on a visit to figure out where Hal went. Unfortunately for Margaret, this is in the middle of September, when even the best behaved ghosts find themselves relieving their anxiety by rearranging the furniture a la poltergeist style:

Unfortunately, this also means the door to the basement has to get unboarded, in order to avoid more questions about what's...down there. 

What's great about this book is how a lot of what goes on can have an alternate meaning to an outside observer: Frederika, the helpful housekeeper, likes to make tea for Margaret. But all Katherine knows is that the stove is on and left unattended constantly. Or Katherine will catch Margaret talking, seemingly to herself. And signs that Margaret sees as other worldy messages are seen as meaningless noise by Katherine, who grows increasingly worried for her mother as she observes more and more bizarre behavior.

Just like the plot of a typical sitcom - misunderstanding abounds and hilarity ensues, with a touch of horror mixed in. This is a great read that will keep you entertained the entire time.

The Candy House by Jennifer Egan

This book made me kinda mad. But it's partially my fault. Apparently it's a sequel and I'm not sure how I didn't know that going in. For those who live under a rock, like me, Jennifer Egan wrote A Visit From the Goon Squad. Did you know there's a sequel to that? Yeah yeah.

I'm not convinced you need to read one to get the other though. Based on Egan's style of writing, which is to say, eclectic. There are a multitude of characters with loose connections to each other. So much so that I made a lot of notes about who was who and how they knew each other. Turns out that didn't really matter because I'm not sure there's really a plot. Or if there was, I completely missed it.

Let me try to explain it like this...let's say you want to know the story of the Three Little Pigs. I'll start with a chapter on the son of the man who harvested the straw one of the pigs used for his house. You might get excited reading about this man, whose life sounds beguiling. But the next chapter will then be about the aunt of the wolf and how she went on a trip that resulted in her meeting her mate and having a pup who occasionally hung out with his cousin when they were little. Then I might write a chapter about one of the pig's adventures that involved a wolf trying to blow his house down, but it won't be obvious that is what is actually happening. Maybe there will be an entire chapter written in emails (which is kinda fun) about one of the pig's kids trying to meet them via a seven degrees of Kevin Bacon scheme. But you won't realize it's the pig's kid because there are too many characters mentioned to keep track of, even though you took COPIUS notes about who was who. All the time you're thinking, "What about the other two pigs and how it all ends? Wait, what was this story about again?"

That's kinda how I felt during and after reading this book. I just couldn't get into it and I'm not sure I even know what the story was about. And here's what I thought the story was about - a future where people could download all their memories with the option to upload them to a collective consciousness. So you could search specific dates, people, or events, and benefit from the memories of anyone who experienced that thing. Sounds INTRIGUING, right? If you want to know more about that, I wouldn't recommend this book.

Speak by Laurie Halse Anderson

"Your words are kindling, twigs covered in wax, soaked in lamp oil, sticky with tar. Your breath is a match, scratching along sandpaper... Whisper break the silence, one word, then two...with every word spoken a loud victory. The words burst into flames, the silence, broken."

This imagery from the novel's foreward was so powerful and poetic, and the story hadn't even started yet! But what a great story it is, and beautifully told - even though one doesn't think of freshman year of high school as an ideal setting. And for Melinda Sordino, it certainly isn't. The summer before high school, Melinda's life changed when she was raped at a party. She called the police for help, but couldn't find the words to describe what happened. Her silence did nothing to dispel rumors that she ratted on the party. Melinda grew deeper into depression and isolation as the year progressed, barely able to speak more than the minimum to interact with others. 

Melinda's world around her slowly falls apart, a symptom of the inner turmoil she faces. Her friends, new and old, abandon her. Her relationship with her parents is strained. And her grades suffer, except in art class, where she is tasked with a project based on a randomly chosen object, a tree.

Besides all of this, Melinda still experiences the usual high school dramas: finding a place to belong, making friends, keeping friends, and what activities to participate in. And the story is told from Melinda's perspective in short, aptly-titled segments that focus on different aspects of her life and the life many of us have faced in those formative years. 

Besides being an accessible, easy to read story, there were also a lot of symbolic nuggets that were fun to discover, including an ironic high school classroom discussion about symbolism in Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter. One student defiantly declared that authors don't use symbolism, at least in the way the high school teacher believed (I remember having a similar conversation about The Great Gatsby!), and the class was quickly assigned an essay on the use of Hawthorne's symbolism. "That's what you get for speaking up" laments Melinda, a further reinforcement of the benefits of silence. 

Although afraid to speak and interact with others, Melinda still has a clear voice in the novel. She's a great narrator and you'll root for her the entire way, while maybe realizing she is someone you know - an acquaintance, a friend, or even yourself. Her story is the story of so many people that must be told, and in the end, Melinda finds a way to tell it.

Sundial by Catriona Ward

We all have roots - and good, bad, or something in the middle, there's always something to learn from them. Whether it's understanding why you are the way you are, or recognizing that history is repeating itself and trying to stop that, or even trying to glean new information that might help you moving forward, it all comes back to where you began. And for Rob, that's Sundial.

Rob grew up with her sister on Sundial, a ranch where their father and his wife hosted college students that ran experiments designed to influence dogs' behavior via an implanted chip in their brains. There's really no good way to transition from that last sentence, so I'll just say that living isolated on the ranch, home-schooled, and only peripherally interacting with the students, Rob's experiences inform her views as an adult. And when she starts noticing disturbing behavior from her daughter, Callie, Rob feels it's necessary to take Callie to Sundial, to teach her about Rob's upbringing. Oh, and to dig up (literally and figuratively) family secrets that she thought she had left behind.

The cover shown here says Stephen King found the book terrifying. It's not quite as literally terrifying as it is figuratively. Let's just say I'm not sure I would reach for this book first, if terror is what I'm looking for. It's more mystery, some thriller, and a little bizarre. But honestly, I feel like there are other mysteries that are more mysterious, other thrillers more thrilling, and other premises more deliciously bizarre than what is offered here. 

This was a slow-burn for me. It took me awhile to get into, and I have to admit, I didn't enjoy this book as much as I enjoyed Ward's other book, The Last House on Needless Street. I didn't feel as invested in the characters in this one. Maybe Ward was too successful in making them unlikeable, so I didn't care as much about them, which, unfortunately, affected how I felt about the book as well.

The Turn of the Screw by Henry James

This period thriller is from 1898 and is about a governess who is hired by a man to care for his niece and nephew. The governess begins the job with excitement, but soon experiences disturbing events and believes ghosts of deceased employees are coming for the kids. 

This novella was adapted from serial installments in the magazine Collier's Weekly. It was interesting to read a ghost story from over 100 years ago and see how similar it is to modern-day ghost stories, but in a Victorian setting. Having said that, it took quite a bit of concentration for me to stay focused on the plot. As can be expected, the language was antiquated and at times difficult to follow, especially during the more narrative parts, as opposed to parts with dialogue.

There is enough ambiguity to the story to guide the reader to multiple conclusions. Ultimately, we read about a bad situation made worse, but what makes it worse can be argued. Is it ghosts? A trick of the mind? Abnormal biology? Whatever it is, events unfold much as they would when something, already over-tightened, experiences one more turn of the screw. 

At the end of the day, there are plenty of ghost and horror stories out there that will leave you at lot more scared and interested than this one. But if you have a thing for Victorian culture and old-fashioned writing, maybe pick this one up.