Ben's a good writer and I was brought back to all the great 18th century lit I've read in the past. But not my cup of tea. I wanted more Declaration o...moreBen's a good writer and I was brought back to all the great 18th century lit I've read in the past. But not my cup of tea. I wanted more Declaration of Independence and lightning storm kite flying. I think I would have read the f*ck out of a Michael Bay adaptation of this book. (less)
John Green has a style. His characters are the whip smart, wise cracking, post-millenial heirs to every John Hughes teen. With a twist …cancer!
I felt...moreJohn Green has a style. His characters are the whip smart, wise cracking, post-millenial heirs to every John Hughes teen. With a twist …cancer!
I felt manipulated. (which I'm not entirely adverse to, considering how much I like Wonder) Without spoilers it's just felt like we were steered to every cathartic, emotional climax with laser precision while everything else fell apart. In movie parlance, we've got killer beats throughout but no single thread gets resolved.
Anyways, I'm willing to own up to the fact that the fault may lie with my reading, my frame of mind; considering how smart people, who's critique I respect, loved the book. But this reading gets a 3.(less)
Auggie Pullman is about to start fifth grade. It's his first day at school having been homeschooled all his life. Auggie has a severe craniofacial abn...moreAuggie Pullman is about to start fifth grade. It's his first day at school having been homeschooled all his life. Auggie has a severe craniofacial abnormality. As he puts it, "Whatever you're thinking, it's probably worse." This is his story.
You can probably imagine the rest. Any synopsis would read like the plot of a saccharine after school special. You've got all the usual suspects. The sneering bully, the tentative best friend, the supportive family, the pretty girl who sees what everyone else can't. Ugh - I've just thrown up in my mouth a bit. I'd also argue that while several sections of the book are told from alternate viewpoints, they all read the same. Their voices are not distinct.
I loved it. Hope, friendship, love and above all, kindness. Loved the punchy chapter arcs. The frank narration and warm tone throughout. Even the outright manipulation of heartstrings (you can all but hear the swelling tones of the soundtrack in your head as you read) can't dissuade me that this was anything other than a beautiful read. (less)
Having never read Hemingway I felt it time to rectify the situation.
Absolutely straightforward prose about an old man and a giant fish. I mean it bor...moreHaving never read Hemingway I felt it time to rectify the situation.
Absolutely straightforward prose about an old man and a giant fish. I mean it borders on ridiculous, as if it the whole thing was translated from Spanish into spare English verse.
“Fish," he said, "I love you and respect you very much. But I will kill you dead before this day ends.”
So maybe I'm swayed by the mythos surrounding Hemingway. It just feels like a classic fish story told over beers sweating in the tropical heat. Santiago isn't having a dry spell, we're talking 84 fucking days without a nibble. When he finally lands a fish he doesn't wrestle with it for a few hours but several fucking days as it drags him out into the ocean. He finally kills it, lashes it to his boat and heads back to shore. And of course he has to beat off sharks, fucking sharks! with his bare hands, as they eat his fish out from under him so that he comes back with nothing. And you know what? He just went right back out there the next day. Man, that Santiago was a tough fucker. (less)
Trust your intuition. We've all become capably adept at negotiating a world of signals. Whether it's instinctively knowing you need to keep an eye on...moreTrust your intuition. We've all become capably adept at negotiating a world of signals. Whether it's instinctively knowing you need to keep an eye on the white Civic just ahead of you on the expressway or that your opponent has just opened with pocket aces. And yet we often ignore intuition when it comes to fear. We push it aside and dismiss it as "probably nothing". We go out of our way to tamp down these signals so we don't appear rude when it applies to others or just paranoid. Honor your intuition.
This is something I will have my daughter read and I guess that's recommendation enough.(less)
Really it's a tiny death to preface a review with "it's not terrible". How can you not be wary of a book that embarks on a quest to be happier at home...moreReally it's a tiny death to preface a review with "it's not terrible". How can you not be wary of a book that embarks on a quest to be happier at home? It could have easily been a tired sort of humble brag novella like Eat, Pray, Love so I'm grateful for small ideas presented as small ideas. Nothing earth shattering, but it's ok to point out the little things, that in hindsight are painfully obvious, that can make people happier.
It just felt a bit formulaic to help the medicine go down. Reveal small idea like "go on adventures". Back with several pithy quotes from appropriate authors and poets. Insert coincidental conversation with friend/party guest/hairdresser that teases out opposing viewpoints. Admit to fumbling but making progress and finish with a "just be you" pat on the head.
Nothing wrong with that but I'd no sooner closed the book than I had completely forgotten everything within. (less)
Falling into that well mined territory of Levitt & Dubner, Gladwell and Pink - The Power of Habit was another great, heavily researched and though...moreFalling into that well mined territory of Levitt & Dubner, Gladwell and Pink - The Power of Habit was another great, heavily researched and thoughtful read about the science of habits.
I loved discovering Target's investment in data driven analysis. Motivated by how a pregnancy can make consumers more susceptible to marketing and flexible about their purchasing habits, Target saw a goldmine in identifying pregnant shoppers. An uptick in skin creme and vitamin purchases along with a myriad of other tiny factors, and Target can pinpoint your trimester with frightening accuracy. Or course people are creeped out by that sort of prescience, so while Target sends targeted flyers showcasing cribs and diapers, they're placed alongside ads for lawnmowers and wine glasses so that it will all appear random.
Or how there's a program called Hit Song Science that analyzes mathematical characteristics of a song to predict potential chart toppers. Hey Yeah was identified as a bonafide hit before the general public even heard the song.
Maybe one should despair at our entirely programmable decisions but I for one welcome our data driven overlords.(less)
Slow going at the start. It's a 19th century pastoral, set in Canada circa 1903, with a plodding focus on detail. Told in the third person, our protag...moreSlow going at the start. It's a 19th century pastoral, set in Canada circa 1903, with a plodding focus on detail. Told in the third person, our protagonist is an essentially nameless woman escaping from the brothers of the husband she's just killed. Despite this, I begin to wonder why I should care. She doesn't seem capable of carrying the plot on her own.
It's not until she comes into focus in relation to those she meets does the story start to pick up. The second half almost warrants a fourth star. I enjoyed the growing cast of characters including the mountain hermit, the pugilist preacher, the monstrous Italian moonshiner and the dwarf shopkeeper. The nameless "widow" slowly comes into focus as Mary Boulton - present during the worst landslide of North American history when 90 millions tons of limestone slid down Turtle Mountain in 100 seconds killing nearly 100 people. I wish I could give it a 3 and a half. (less)
I've never read any Neil Gaiman. I've even failed to crack the spine on a single Sandman. How dare I call myself a comic reader - my secret shame. Lon...moreI've never read any Neil Gaiman. I've even failed to crack the spine on a single Sandman. How dare I call myself a comic reader - my secret shame. Long past due to fix this oversight, I started in with American Gods. (10th Anniversary edition)
It's oblique in it's writing. It doesn't draw too much attention to itself and so it seems that the narrative happens in the periphery. Misdirection. I know already that I will be reading this again. If it wasn't for the fact it would ruin it for first time readers I could almost wish for an annotated, and illustrated version ala The Da Vinci Code. The etymology of Wednesday and the histories of the Egyptian gods rendered on the page.
Our protagonist Shadow has just been released after serving 3 years for aggravated assault, only to mourn the death of his wife. A car crash that killed her and her secret lover - Shadow's best friend. There's no reason for him to say no to the strange old man that fortuitously offers him a job. It's a vague sort of employment that eventually finds him in the company of gods old and new, a shadowy Agency and the spectre of his dead wife.
The old gods, immigrated from countries overseas, find America less than hospitable. They are tired and scrapping by in taxis, working in funeral homes, running cons and slowly going crazy. Supplanted by the shiny new gods of credit cards, internet and cable TV there seems to be an impending clash on the horizon.
The novel defies easy categorization, winning awards for science fiction, fantasy and horror. An American road trip, written by a Brit. An incredible novel from a comic book writer.(less)
It's tough. Like reviewing Hey Jude with nothing more than the lyrics. The play's the thing! After reading it I'm more than a little disappointed to f...moreIt's tough. Like reviewing Hey Jude with nothing more than the lyrics. The play's the thing! After reading it I'm more than a little disappointed to find it just finished it's run in London Ontario. I can only hope someone mounts it again nearby.
The play, not unlike the Korean variety store it's set in, crams so much into such a tiny space. Parental expectation, xenophobic bias, forgiveness, immigrant Korean's roots in the Christian community and, with the convenience store, the community at large. And while I agree with reviewer that says "it could be accused of sacrificing truth to reconciliation" I understand the motive. It's hilarious, heartfelt and it can't help but make me think of my own folks. (less)
Chefsploitation! Pulpy samurai mashup that lets Bourdain thumb his nose at pretentious foodie douches and holier than thou vegan/freegan/locavore hipp...moreChefsploitation! Pulpy samurai mashup that lets Bourdain thumb his nose at pretentious foodie douches and holier than thou vegan/freegan/locavore hippies.
Fine food becomes the currency of the wealthy and chefs are the new kingpins. The poor live off in the periphery and indulge in pre-packaged fare and franchised McRestaurants - stuffing their fat faces with processed pablum.
Langon Foss' art is pitch perfect and he fills each panel with tons of wonderful detail. Meanwhile Bourdain can't help but drop some knowledge, from the Moguro Bocho, Hinoki wood, elvers (which even today can cost 1K per pound), to the ritual of the ortolan.
Nonetheless, here in landlocked Waterloo - I'm still dunking my sushi in soy sauce.(less)
I liked it. Turns out I just hate everyone else's opinion on it. George Saunders seems to invite an abundance of critical lit dick-swinging. He's the...moreI liked it. Turns out I just hate everyone else's opinion on it. George Saunders seems to invite an abundance of critical lit dick-swinging. He's the Bon Iver of the written word. Have you read some of these reviews? Sorry, I can be just as guilty of the same overwrought analysis but this is just too much. You've all forced my hand and now I'm reading non-fiction and self-help.(less)
Angelmaker was a wonderful read that left me disappointed it didn't go on longer. It's one of those books you need to take long, savoring pulls at and...moreAngelmaker was a wonderful read that left me disappointed it didn't go on longer. It's one of those books you need to take long, savoring pulls at and not middling little sips. The prose meanders but never dawdles.
Chronologically placed in the now, it yet manages to intimate Victorian steampunk, 1920's gangster chic and Bond era villains with global aspirations. Author Nick Harkaway (FUN FACT: He's the son of John le Carre!) renders women well - from the octogenarian Edie, with a few tricks up her sleeve and a vicious, blind pug in her bag - to Polly, the gun moll with an enthusiastic and altogether erotic fixation on passing locomotives. Throw in some mechanical bees. robotic monks, an underground criminal market and a backstory that spans generation - well, you've got yourself a ripping good yarn.
It's a wonder it doesn't collapse into a jumbled mess. There are so many cogs and wheels, pins and pulleys that it should fly apart in all directions but Harkaway, like his protagonist Joe Spork, manages to pull it all together with clockwork precision.(less)
In the end I ended up disliking the characters immensely. But I couldn't put the book down.
It reads like a meta exploration on narrative. Gillian Fly...moreIn the end I ended up disliking the characters immensely. But I couldn't put the book down.
It reads like a meta exploration on narrative. Gillian Flynn is a master of words and picks them incredibly well to allude and insinuate. It's an exploration in tone, on unreliable narrators, whether on the page or in the media. The facts never change but your assessment of them does based on how they are presented. So while it's got a keen eye on media and it's manipulative bias to garner ratings - it's also playing with the thriller novel form.
Gillian Flynn sets herself up to solve/resolve a momentous challenge, and while it may not tie up as well as I'd like, it never fails to surprise. (less)
Sometimes in order to find yourself you need to get lost ...and the characters populating this book are completely and utterly gone.
Titular Bernadett...moreSometimes in order to find yourself you need to get lost ...and the characters populating this book are completely and utterly gone.
Titular Bernadette Fox is the ugly American, Real Housewife of Seattle kvetching to her Indian virtual secretary Manjula, who she pays $30.00 a week to pull together travel itineraries, order anti-psychotics and blackberry abatement specialists. She's her offshore confidante who she can unload on about the weather, 5 way intersections and even Canadians.
"One of the main reasons I don't like leaving the house is because I might find myself face-to-face with a Canadian. Seattle is crawling with them. You probably think, U.S./Canada, they're interchangeable because they're both filled with English-speaking, morbidly obese white people. Well, Manjula, you couldn't be more mistaken.
...The way you might fear a cow sitting down in the middle of the street during rush hour, that's how I fear Canadians. To Canadians, everyone is equal. Joni Mitchell is interchangeable with a secretary at open-mic night. Frank Gehry is no greater than a hack pumping out McMansions on AutoCAD. John Candy is no funnier than Uncle Lou when he gets a couple of beers in him. No wonder the only Canadians anyone's ever heard of are the ones who have gotten the hell out. Anyone with talent who stayed would be flattened under an avalanche of equality. The thing Canadians don't understand is that some people are extraordinary and should be treated accordingly."
Maria Semple wrote for Arrested Development - which should really be the one line review.
The story is a whirlwind, pieced together from police reports, hasty faxes, email directives to offshore virtual assistants, psychiatric evaluations, school newsletters, FBI abstracts and blogger transcripts. This allows Semple to write each character in their own voice.
From a former MacArther Genius to a Microsoft slash TEDTalk rockstar, private school marketing douche, mooney, self-help (Victims Against Victimhood) admin, high strung neighbour wound drum tight and a preternaturally smart tween daughter (naturally) they're all here. But don't just dismiss it as TV fluff on the page. It's smart and satisfying. Snark without being terribly mean spirited. (less)
I was going to go on about how Yunior is such a unique and distinctive voice until every review I read talked exactly about how unique and distinctive...moreI was going to go on about how Yunior is such a unique and distinctive voice until every review I read talked exactly about how unique and distinctive his voice is.
So instead I will say that I love these veiled, semi-autobiographical memoirs. Maybe talking about oneself frees the author to really flex some narrative muscle. I'm thinking of Michael Ondaatje's Running the Family - still one of my favorites.
Diaz can leave you spinning in the wake of his ever changing narrative voice though. Chapters jump from first to third to tangential characters. But through it all it's a compelling read on the manifestations and muddling of love.
Yunior is a misogynist cheater. Incapable of monogamy and hair rending, teeth gnashing full of remorse when it all becomes uncovered. In less deft hands it would be unreadable but it's rendered so clearly it rings true. You probably know people like this. (less)
It seems the introvert, much like the geek, has garnered favour over the years. Even the the word itself is less a pejorative than it once was. Of cou...moreIt seems the introvert, much like the geek, has garnered favour over the years. Even the the word itself is less a pejorative than it once was. Of course I'm on the internet, posting on a website focused on books …maybe I'm experiencing a slight group bias.
Beyond these bookish walls it's clear we celebrate the Cult of Personality. TV hammers the idea home with outsized personalities armed with witty rejoinders while the news seems to adhere to the adage "he with the loudest voice wins".
In the office we foster brainstorming, team rooms and open concept work environments.
At school we wring our hands if little Johnny prefers to be by himself while teachers preach "participation" with grouped desks and team work.
We're doing it wrong. When a good third to half of the world is made of introverts maybe it's time we go back to the honouring character instead of charisma, working in solitude, and appreciating quiet introspection. This isn't about being shy - being an introvert is all about how you respond to stimulation - especially social stimulation. Introverts can hold a room, speak to the masses, make their points heard - they just need to carve out some space to recuperate all that spent social capital.
So what's not to like about a book championing the thoughtful, bookish and unassuming with an entire chapter devoted to Asian deference? Susan Cain is one of us and you can't help but find yourself on the page.
Paolo Bacigulupi takes a sci-fi conceit and really fleshes it out. Scorched earth, inhospitably polluted Earth necessitating modified humans built to...morePaolo Bacigulupi takes a sci-fi conceit and really fleshes it out. Scorched earth, inhospitably polluted Earth necessitating modified humans built to withstand the environment? That's the template to countless post-apocalyptic sci-fi novels. Table stakes for a larger story. Paolo instead decides to pull up on the reins and examine the idea a little closer and the results are wonderfully thoughtful. Lots of these sci-fi conceits are explored in each tightly packaged story. Lots of fun dipping in and reading between books. (less)
A bibliographic quest involving a mysterious book store, a black-cloaked secret society and a fellowship of modern day adventurers. Ancient texts and...moreA bibliographic quest involving a mysterious book store, a black-cloaked secret society and a fellowship of modern day adventurers. Ancient texts and classic typefaces collide with Google, Hadoop and Mechanical Turks.
Clay Jannon is an art school grad and out of work dot-commer desperate for work. Spying a Help Wanted sign he agrees to be the night clerk for a dark and narrow 24-hour bookstore. It's main clientele turns out to be an eccentric cadre of readers who borrow cryptic books filled with indecipherable text.
From there we tumble down the rabbit hole of an ancient bibliographic cult attempting to solve a centuries old secret. Clay gathers his merry band that brings together a Russian programming prodigy, boob physics startup CEO, Googler and data visualization whiz, a knitting collective, ILM whiz kid, book hacker/pirate and some octogenarian acolytes. More olde school fun.
Let me just get this off my chest. The cover is awful. Not that it assaults any design sensibilities. It's just scans as a YA novel, intimating the ho...moreLet me just get this off my chest. The cover is awful. Not that it assaults any design sensibilities. It's just scans as a YA novel, intimating the houses at Hogwarts or the Districts of Panem. The Rook is more a pulpy, supernatural action thriller laced throughout with a dry wit. This deserves to be a BBC mini along the lines of Sherlock. As to the book, it warrants something a bit more oblique, like a Justin Cronin cover.
The book opens with our protagonist in the rain, surrounded by a ring of unconscious, latex glove wearing assailants, inhabiting a body that used to belong to a Myfawny Thomas. With that we're off and running.
Through a series of letters written to/by herself Myfawny finds out she is a Rook for her "Majesty's Supernatural Secret Service" or the Checquy. In order to secure their shores from any extraordinary threat they employ a menagerie of powered individuals; from a single consciousness spread across 4 bodies to an operative that can exude tear gas through his pores or another that can wander through your dreams. When the Wetenschappeljik Broederschap van Natuurkundigen rears its head, Myfawny must work to quell a horrifying global threat while uncovering the traitor in their midst and unraveling the mystery of who wiped her mind clean and why.
So while I take umbrage with it's YA cover I have to admit it reads like a comic (or graphic novel if you prefer) in novel format. It's Bourne meets the X-Men meets Hellboy's BPRD (Bureau for Paranormal Research and Defense) with a bit of the Umbrella Academy thrown in - and it is breathtakingly fun in it's scope. It, as one reviewer notes, "reminds us of those feelings we would get as a child hiding under our blankets trying to read just one more chapter." A perfect holiday book - be prepared to stay up late.(less)
I loved the book and found it entirely readable ...so there.
Colin Singleton worries about his future as he pines over the past. Gutshot (wink) over h...moreI loved the book and found it entirely readable ...so there.
Colin Singleton worries about his future as he pines over the past. Gutshot (wink) over his last breakup and fearful of how to segue out of childhood prodigy status, he embarks on an impromptu road trip with his pudgy Middle Eastern ("I'm not a terrorist") best friend who loves Judge Judy and is intent on doing nothing. Boom - there's your movie.
Throw in a mystery at the tampon string factory, the grand unifying theory of relationships, Franz Ferdinand's grave, feral hogs and dingleberries and you've got yourself one fun little read. Looking forward to checking out his much lauded The Fault in Our Stars.(less)
"Murray’s mom made really good chili, and lots of kids made regular trips to Murray’s house to have some of his mom’s chili. She seemed to always have...more"Murray’s mom made really good chili, and lots of kids made regular trips to Murray’s house to have some of his mom’s chili. She seemed to always have chili ready. Murray’s house became known for his mom’s chili. Murray was well liked, but his mom’s chili made him even more popular."
Jian is no writer. Without the notoriety of his day job there would be no book. But his stature as a minor Canadian deity is inescapably linked to the reading of the book. As a fan of Q I'm sure I'm not alone in reading it entirely in his voice.
That aside how could his memoir not resonate? Jian comes up in the 80's harking from a Southern Ontario suburb as a second generation immigrant trying to fit in at highschool. I suspect Jian, despite his hand wringing, to be waaay cooler than I was at that age growing up down the 401 from him. Hanging with the seniors in theatre class, in a band, making out with girls and meeting Rush. As far as 14 year old me was concerned, he was living the dream.
It's still a treat to revisit that era, and our lives as preteens before the internet. Here's a list - Jian loves his lists - of things this book reminded me of.
My blue and red pleather Adidas bag
Mix tapes
Sam the Record Man
Spiral corded phones attached to walls
Commodore PET computers
The Spoons
Porn in magazine format
Grade 13
(less)
Fairy tales with a pervasive sense of unease. More grim than Grimm. And while Link is capable of turning a phrase I kept looking for some sort of inte...moreFairy tales with a pervasive sense of unease. More grim than Grimm. And while Link is capable of turning a phrase I kept looking for some sort of internal logic at work in each of the stories. It's funny how so many of the reviews apologize for their mediocre ratings. There is a sense that each story hints at something larger - or maybe we're just programmed to look for the metaphor in fairytales. I just couldn't unravel it and as a result each short story felt unresolved and meandering.
Part of the Humble Ebook Bundle which I'm still excited to work my way through. (less)
It's my introduction to the Duke and it's proving difficult to live up to the advance hype. Could something like this even exist today or would he be...moreIt's my introduction to the Duke and it's proving difficult to live up to the advance hype. Could something like this even exist today or would he be dismissed as nothing more than another James Frey? Unfair, as it's more than just a drug fueled neon blaze across Vegas but an examination of the drug culture and the clarion call of gonzo journalism. This appeared as a two part feature in Rolling Stone and even today would be a savage swipe in a publishing world that tends to favor a grade 5 reading level. Still, I read this and think about the subsequent legion of narcotics taking, wannabe burnouts celebrating their own excesses and shudder. (less)
Frustrating in that it's slow going at the onset as it works to establish the rules of this world. Elements that will no doubt figure heavily in later...moreFrustrating in that it's slow going at the onset as it works to establish the rules of this world. Elements that will no doubt figure heavily in later books are teasingly introduced, including the idea of Dust and the city in the Aurora. Bookending that is a non-ending that simply opens the door into Book 2.
It's that chewy centre where all the goodness lays. Packed with adventure and an ever growing cast of incredible characters. Loved it.
Taken as an individual book I give it a 3 (it's so incomplete!) but I suspect the trilogy will fill in the gaps and clarify the themes Pullman is striving for. (less)
The Curfew is a quick read, I finished it in a single sitting. Jesse Ball is a poet. His work of prose is filled with empty spaces and Ball manages to...moreThe Curfew is a quick read, I finished it in a single sitting. Jesse Ball is a poet. His work of prose is filled with empty spaces and Ball manages to evoke a great deal of feeling with sparse lines. The puppet show is beautifully realized and satisfyingly resolved. Maybe it's the brevity of the work, the concentration of so much in such a thin volume, but I find that I can't help but keep thinking about the story. It would make a great book club read as it invites so much in the interpretation. (less)
A childhood friend prompted me to pick up the book. He's a devout Christian, new-order Mennonite strong in his belief. His was a self-assured faith th...moreA childhood friend prompted me to pick up the book. He's a devout Christian, new-order Mennonite strong in his belief. His was a self-assured faith that felt no need to justify itself in proselytization or broad overtures. Nor was it narrow or exclusionary. There was never a whiff of smug self righteousness or pitying condescension.
Valedictorian, musically inclined, all round athlete he would go on after high school to seminary. That complete he moved on to psychology then medicine. His faith unshaken.
I'm told he read this book and become an atheist.
I don't know if was a creeping doubt and that the God Delusion simply gave him permission to question his faith or a blinding epiphany. Hell, it could simply be untrue, nuance lost with each retelling.
I guess reviewing this is no more beneficial than opining about Twilight or 50 Shades of Grey. Not that I didn't love this book, but it seems that many opinions are formed well prior to the actual reading.
It's a brisk read, with easily digested chapters that break down traditional Christian arguments one by one. I don't find it overly smug or even mean spirited - charges often laid at it's feet by scandalized Christian defendants. It is egocentric, concerned for the individual's sense of religion. "Even if the open windows of science at first make us shiver after the cosy indoor warmth of traditional humanizing myths, in the end the fresh air brings vigour, and the great spaces have a splendour of their own." I like the sentiment but I still think there's power in the rituals of faith, especially in the face of grief, the loss of a loved one. But even then Dawkins is careful to make the distinction between "belief in God and belief in belief: the belief that it is desirable to believe, even if the belief itself is false."
It is an entirely approachable read regardless of your faith going in. I'm sure there's no shortage of "cafeteria Christians" that pick and choose their beliefs that befit their lifestyle; or "Not like those" Christians that distance themselves from Creationist extremists or fundamental nut jobs. I think a book like this helps them take a critical look at the nature of their belief. I'm sure in many it will only deepen their faith but there's value in stepping outside and examining it in a new and honest light. A highly recommended read. (less)
With Rakoff's passing I thought it appropriate to revisit this Canadian expat. I've given him short shrift in the past, he the second fiddle to the ot...moreWith Rakoff's passing I thought it appropriate to revisit this Canadian expat. I've given him short shrift in the past, he the second fiddle to the other nebbish, homosexual New Yorker named David. (Turns out it was that same David Sedaris that helped propel Rakoff's early career.)
Don't Get Too Comfortable is a collection of essays. It becomes clear that you can take the Canadian out of Canada but you can't get the Canada out of the Canadian. Rakoff seems to be the outsider looking in. Starting with his experience becoming an American he mines his fascination with the first world, outsized experience of the "typical American" ...or at least the American other countries might sniff at. (As a Canadian I should apologize for any slight that might be implied by that statement)
Maybe it's all shooting fish but Rakoff can still skewer with scathing precision.
"How better then to show a nobility of spirit than by broadcasting your capacity to discern the gustatory equivalent of a hummingbird's cough as it beats its wings near a blossom that grows by a glassy pond on the other side of a distant mountain? No surer proof that one is meant for better things than an easily bruised delicacy. Such a perfectly tuned instrument can quickly suss out the cheap and nasty. So, the bitterness at the back of the throat; the polite refusal of the glass of whiskey marred by those (shudder) domestic ice cubes; the physical and psychic insult that are sheets of anything short of isotopic density. What is the thread count, Kenneth? We have become an army of multiply chemically sensitive, high-maintenance princesses trying to make our way through a world full of irksome peas."(less)
Before Twitter, Instagram and Tumblr made words superfluous, I was a card carrying member of the blogsphere. Apart from dissecting my life in long for...moreBefore Twitter, Instagram and Tumblr made words superfluous, I was a card carrying member of the blogsphere. Apart from dissecting my life in long form several times a week over 4 years I eagerly consumed an extensive blogroll. I loved the funny vignettes painted by fellow bloggers. It was my equivalent to the morning paper as I settled into the office in the morning.
Jenny Lawson's book reminds me of some of the best aspects of that world (no surprise as she is a blogger herself) It's outsized personalities finding the drama in everyday life and celebrating the absurd while chasing down every tangent and oh look! something shiny over there! Bad-ass Harry Potter vaginas, Beyonce the Giant Metal Chicken, and hand puppets made from small dead rodents.
Oh relax, it was a squirrel. Funny, random, self-indulgent. (less)
Lots of geek love. I feel an inevitable screenplay in this book's future. Andrew Dahl has just been assigned to the Intrepid, the flagship of the Univ...moreLots of geek love. I feel an inevitable screenplay in this book's future. Andrew Dahl has just been assigned to the Intrepid, the flagship of the Universal Union. It soon becomes evident that Andrew and his newly posted friends are replacing crew members that have met with untimely, and inevitably gruesome deaths. Death by falling rock, toxic atmosphere, pulse gun vaporization, shuttle door malfunction and those damn ice sharks. It doesn't take long to determine there is a bizarre set of rules that seem to govern this ship - most importantly involving away missions and any member of the bridge. There's the pitch - for the sake of keeping the review spoiler free, I'll leave it at that. But you've probably pieced together several plausible resolutions. It's a super fast read so you can forgive it spiraling out with a sputter with the three codas at the end. But it's still hella fun.
I love this Trekkian reality and can only imagine the immense nerd glee I'd feel hearing the Audible version narrated by Wil Wheaton.(less)
Loading...
