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.