I feel like Sherlock Holmes. All I was was "nothing," and I drew a bunch of conclusions!
Amaze!
Witty, funny, emotional, beautifully written, and featur
I feel like Sherlock Holmes. All I was was "nothing," and I drew a bunch of conclusions!
Amaze!
Witty, funny, emotional, beautifully written, and featuring perhaps the most adorable character to have ever appeared in a science fiction novel.
Project Hail Mary is by no means perfect: it is sometimes overly explanatory (e.g. when the main character tells a supposedly very clever European character that water boils at 100°C and is composed of hydrogen and oxygen) and sometimes too simplifying. However, none of that could spoil my enjoyment of the story because it has so much character.
Perhaps it's too soon to tell, but Project Hail Mary may be one of my favourite books of 2022....more
The beginning of my 2022 reading journey has been closely tied to the Taylor Jenkins Reid book universe. After Malibu Rising, where the story centres The beginning of my 2022 reading journey has been closely tied to the Taylor Jenkins Reid book universe. After Malibu Rising, where the story centres around the family of pop star Mick Riva, I dived into The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo, one of whom is, you guessed it, Mick Riva.
Judging by the number of ratings on GoodReads and the average score, The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo may very well be Taylor Jenkins Reid's most popular novel; however, I have to admit I have been somewhat underwhelmed by it. Yes, it is accessible and fun and – due to being set in the era of classical Hollywood – a bit scandalous; however, it also feels rather shallow. There is little character growth after Evelyn's husband no. 3 – the latter half of the book is very repetitive and simply rehashes the same old plotlines again and again. At the same time, the writing is overly descriptive, almost to the point of assuming the reader is not able to come to any conclusion independently and must be told everything to letter. This is also anchored in the ultimate twist, which is neither shocking nor impactful, as you can see it coming long before the end. And it doesn't even change your view of the characters; at least in my case, it certainly didn't.
The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo may be a decent book to get you out of the reading slump: it is engaging and fast-paced. Nonetheless, it is also very much like an average blockbuster – it doesn't offer much substance, and it quickly fades from memory once finished....more
I can tell you, if you’re ever in a situation of only having minutes to live, get a gang of cockney builders to enthusiastically rip the piss out of y
I can tell you, if you’re ever in a situation of only having minutes to live, get a gang of cockney builders to enthusiastically rip the piss out of you and it’ll feel like aeons.
The enjoyment of an autobiography generally depends upon your interest in the person. Back Story is no different, and the chapters possess the wit and charm that David Mitchell exhibits on panel shows. And then there is that penultimate chapter, a chapter that marks a striking departure from Mitchell's cynical persona. A chapter that is so utterly honest, brave, and moving, so genuine and eloquently expressed, that it may be the single most beautiful string of sentences I have ever read in an autobiography. ...more
Two parallel narratives. One encompasses a period of 24 hours in 1983 when the children of Mick Riva, a famous singer, organise a party in Malibu. TheTwo parallel narratives. One encompasses a period of 24 hours in 1983 when the children of Mick Riva, a famous singer, organise a party in Malibu. The other sketches out a period of over 20 years and tells the reader what had happened before the 1983 party which ended up with fire. Malibu Rising is fast-paced, easy to read, fun, and built around well-shaped characters. It feels genuine, even if I was a little underwhelmed by the ultimate catharsis which introduced too many minor characters instead of building upon the previously established themes and storylines. ...more
I have known of Paolo Coelho’s books for more than half of my life. I can’t recall why precisely, but sentences from Coelho’s books, sentences like “wI have known of Paolo Coelho’s books for more than half of my life. I can’t recall why precisely, but sentences from Coelho’s books, sentences like “when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it,” or “remember that wherever your heart is, there you will find your treasure,” have somehow found their ways into my life. There have been people around me, perhaps not close friends but people whom I have known nonetheless, who have read Coelho and made it known they found his books profound.
When I heard those lines, they always sounded like superficial bullshit for people wanting to post seemingly deep one-liners on social media. However, every now and then, I saw Coelho’s books in bookstores. And every now and then, I heard about all the languages these books were translated into. So, there must be more to it, right?
No.
The Alchemist really is nothing more than a ludicrous self-help book with a weak story full of deus-ex-machina moments and no compelling characters. It pretends to be a fable, yet contains little originality or compelling life lessons. It is also, dare I say so, morally questionable. It tells its readers to follow their dreams regardless of how irrational those dreams may seem and regardless of whom they will have to leave behind in their pursuit. That chest of gold and diamonds, which you may find buried one day (yes, the treasure that Santiago searches for is a literal treasure), was all worth it.
To enlighten you on the journey where characters come and go (what happened to the merchant's daughter by whom Santiago was enthralled in the beginning?) and where the main character learns tricks like turning himself into the wind (¯\_(ツ)_/¯), you will discover the meaning of people’s personal legends, the language of the world, the soul of the world, and the soul of the god, which, yes, are all as pretentious as they sound. But at the end of the day, you will be equipped with those seemingly profound, pseudo-philosophical statements which will make you fit among the people who appear on r/im14andthisisdeep subreddit. So, that's worth it, I guess....more
A personal return to childhood after over 20 years. A book which may be read by an elementary school child as well as their parents and hold up for boA personal return to childhood after over 20 years. A book which may be read by an elementary school child as well as their parents and hold up for both of them....more
A decent concept and diverse characters do not necessarily make a good story. Sometimes, they may be packed in a cringy, superficial book with bad wriA decent concept and diverse characters do not necessarily make a good story. Sometimes, they may be packed in a cringy, superficial book with bad writing and unconvincing characters. Like this one is....more
Let's say it loud and clear: Dune is a complicated book to begin reading. You are thrown into a world, where characters talk about things and conceptsLet's say it loud and clear: Dune is a complicated book to begin reading. You are thrown into a world, where characters talk about things and concepts unknown in the 21st century, using words that do not presently exist in the English language. Read the opening ten-page chapter and you'll find them discussing gob jabbar, truthtrance, melange, feminine and masculine pasts, the Voice, mentats, Bene Gesserit, Kwizath Haderach, or Muad'Dib without much explanation as to what any of that means. I dare to say it may take 50-100 pages before you start understanding the story, prior to which it will be very tempting to give up and put Dune back on a shelf – I admit I have done so a few times over the past decade myself.
And yet, despite this, Dune is the book I would like to write if I were to ever write a book. Frank Herbert doesn't simply tell you a story: he tells you a story set in a unique yet believable world that is ruled by customs and laws unlike ours. And he paints just enough picture to approximate the world to you without overburdening you with unnecessary detail. Here, he briefly discusses the technical aspects of a stillsuit, clothing worn to survive in a desert; there, he allows a character to explain the ecology of the planet. Here, he hints at how religious orders plant myths in local populations so that centuries later the right person may profit from them; there, he observes that in a world, where water is a currency, crying for the dead is viewed in awe. He draws just enough on what we know (Christianity and Islam, selective breeding, the possibility of a war between men and machines) to make the world seem familiar and puts just enough twist on that to make it feel foreign and unique.
If I were to describe Dune in one word, it would be "complexity". Herbert creates a world that is layered, detailed and can be read on many levels. Surely, you may simply follow the heroic journey set in the centre. However, you are also invited to explore the politics, economics, religion, and ecology surrounding it. And it is for this reason, I presume, why the Dune has often been considered one of the best science fiction books ever written....more
WARNING: The text below reveals the plot and the conclusion of the book
Part One
Okonkwo is a ruthless and well-respected man in his tribe. He takes priWARNING: The text below reveals the plot and the conclusion of the book
Part One
Okonkwo is a ruthless and well-respected man in his tribe. He takes pride in being a skilled warrior who has brought home many heads of his enemies and adheres to the strict paternalistic rituals of his community. He despises weakness in any shape or form and is afraid that his oldest son Nwoye could one day resemble Okonkwo's unworthy, dead father who gained no tribal titles in his lifetime. Okonkwo shows no compassion to his family, for emotions are for the weak, and regularly beats his three wives for offences such as forgetting to cook his meal or cutting a palm tree. So as not to show any vulnerability, when the village elders decide a boy who is like a son to Okonkwo must die, Okonkwo kills him himself. Okonkwo dreams that one day, he might become the man with the most titles in his tribe. Then one day, Okonkwo kills his fellow tribesman by accident. As a result, he and his family are banished from the village for seven years.
Part Two
Okonkwo and his family settle in a village where his mother was born. Okonkwo lacks the passion he once had, knowing that his previous achievements are wasted due to the fatal accident. Moreover, white men with iron horses (that is, bikes) suddenly appear in the area and start preaching about the one true god. The villagers are sure their animistic gods will kill the white offenders for not adhering to the rules of the land, but when no such thing happens, some of the villages start joining the new white religion. One of these converts is Nwoye, who changes his name to Isaac and leaves his family to work with the newcomers. Outraged, Okonkwo disowns him. He now focuses solely on his return to his village after seven years, hoping he may regain his standing in the tribe.
Part Three
Okonkwo's return to his native land was not as memorable as he had wished. It was true his two beautiful daughters aroused great interest among suitors and marriage negotiations were soon in progress, but, beyond that, Umuofia did not appear to have taken any special notice of the warrior's return. The clan had undergone such profound change during his exile that it was barely recognisable. The new religion and government and the trading stores were very much in the people’s eyes and minds. There was still many who saw these institutions as evil, but even they talked and thought about little else, and certainly not about Okonkwo’s return.
The tribe has changed. Okonkwo is appalled that the villagers appease the white invaders rather than fight them. In his mind, his former fellow warriors more and more resemble weak women. Okonkwo has none of this and takes part in burning the white people's church. Upon his release from prison, Okonkwo realises he needs to stir a revolt among his countrymen. Shortly after, a conflict between the villagers and the messengers of the white government arise. Okonkwo kills one of the messengers but is taken aback when he realises his fellow tribesmen do not fight back like him. Broken and recognising he has lost all that is important to him – his culture, society, family, and friends –, Okonkwo commits suicide. The villagers show his hanging body to the white government's District Commissioner, who has come to the village to take him to court.
Then comes the ultimate paragraph of the book:
The Commissioner went away, taking three or four of the soldiers with him. In the many years in which he had toiled to bring civilization to different parts of Africa he had learnt a number of things. One of them was that a District Commissioner must never attend to such undignified details as cutting down a dead man from the tree. Such attention would give the natives a poor opinion of him. In the book which he planned to write he would stress that point. As he walked back to the court he thought about that book. Every day brought him some new material. The story of this man who had killed a messenger and hanged himself would make interesting reading. One could almost write a whole chapter on him. Perhaps not a whole chapter but a reasonable paragraph, at any rate. There was so much else to include, and one must be firm in cutting out details. He had already chosen the title of the book, after some thought: The Pacification of the Primitive Tribes of the Lower Niger.
- - -
Chinua Achebe's Things Fall Apart is based on juxtaposition – the feminine vs the masculine, the animistic religion vs one true god, the strength vs the weakness. Perhaps the most jarring of all is the ultimate paragraph, the marginalisation of a complex, even if an unsympathetic, character. It is precisely that type of ending which makes you remember a book....more
Welcome to the beautiful Sinclair family. No one is a criminal. No one is an addict. No one is a failure. The Sinclairs are athletic, tall, and handsome.
Welcome to the beautiful Sinclair family. No one is a criminal. No one is an addict. No one is a failure. The Sinclairs are athletic, tall, and handsome. We are old-money Democrats. Our smiles are wide, our chins square, and our tennis serves aggressive.
An unreliable narrator. Good.
Overly theatrical narration overflowing with exaggeration and unnecessary line separations. That’s alright – it’s a first person’s point of view, and it has its distinctive style, which may or may not suit the reader. (I actually fairly enjoyed it.)
The plot. Look, just no. Very little happens until the ultimate chapters, and the ending is underwhelming. It is neither clever, nor believable, nor shocking, nor poignant. It is not one of those endings, where everything suddenly makes sense. It just is there for no reason whatsoever....more
Coming to the book three years later, with imprinted images in my head yet an imperfect recollection of the stoI have seen the film first. I loved it.
Coming to the book three years later, with imprinted images in my head yet an imperfect recollection of the story, was intriguing. As could be suspected, the book has a slightly different tone and rhythm than the film. The film, may I say so, was dreamlike and melancholic and in the moment; the novel is more obsessive, more raw, more cloudy – I admit I sometimes got lost in Elio’s internal monologues, which like thoughts shifted from one subject to another, with no period separating the individual topics. Both the film and the book are poetic, but they present two distinctive shapes of poetry: in one corner, we have Luca Guadagnino’s vibrant aesthetic, which much like Italian neorealism illustrates mundane life and uses the surroundings to tell a story; in the other, we have André Aciman’s seemingly never-ending sentences interwoven with contradictions, which are supposed to resemble a young person’s stream of consciousness. I have preferred the former: I have adored the film from its beginning to the end. Meanwhile, the book, unfortunately, felt a bit overwritten at times, with beautiful passages followed by ones that could use some editing.
Thankfully, nonetheless, those beautiful passages are indeed beautiful. All the moments when Aciman temporarily lost me were immediately balanced out by sentences that I felt the urge to read again and again. Aciman, it has to be said, has an immense skill to convey emotions through language. After all, it was him who came up with one of my favourite moments in the film: the father’s surprisingly open and revealing speech about how emotions, even pain, make us human. As far as I can remember, the monologue is copied from the book word for word, and it is just as beautiful when written down as it is when spoken by Michael Stuhlbarg.
It were, however, the 'unexpected' moments that I fell in love it. Before reading the book, for example, I did not realise the importance of the title. It was cute, for sure, but it did not communicate any deeper meaning to me. So what that Elio called Oliver by his name, and vice versa? Yet, in the book, the imagery of Elio and Oliver being one at the same thing, knowing everything about one another, being completely vulnerable in front of now another, is so beautifully painted that I suddenly understood Elio’s obsession with exchanging clothes and even names. The act suddenly meant everything. And on that note, may I just add how beautiful and touching that final paragraph is?...more
The opening chapters are a masterclass in storytelling. They were so simple, both in structure and in the plot, that they could be understood by a chiThe opening chapters are a masterclass in storytelling. They were so simple, both in structure and in the plot, that they could be understood by a child and read like a fairy-tale. Yet, for a mature reader, they inconspicuously painted a complex picture of a world, which – despite the comfort of all its inhabitants – is intrinsically flawed.
"Her father had already gone to the shelf and taken down the stuffed elephant which was kept there. Many of the comfort objects, like Lily’s, were soft, stuffed, imaginary creatures. Jonas’s had been called a bear."
Had The Giver continued in this style, it could have become one of my favourite books of all time. It let my imagination run wild, and it allowed me, as the reader, to anticipate potential conflicts. Then, however, the focus suddenly shifted. Characters and plot lines were abandoned. The narrative has become a bit too explanatory, a bit too contradictory in itself, a bit too rushed. It was still beautiful, but it was suddenly lacking something....more
An honest account of one’s life wrapped in a good structure which was undoubtedly provided by the shadow author, yet through which you can still senseAn honest account of one’s life wrapped in a good structure which was undoubtedly provided by the shadow author, yet through which you can still sense Elton’s wit and personality. Would I recommend the book to everyone? Probably not. Would I recommend it to someone who, much like me, enjoys Elton John’s music? Absolutely....more
An intriguing concept packed in an easy-to-read novel, which ultimately left me underwhelmed. The little episodes felt a bit repetitive with each new An intriguing concept packed in an easy-to-read novel, which ultimately left me underwhelmed. The little episodes felt a bit repetitive with each new one adding little new relevant insight; the lessons had about the same depth as an average post on Instagram; the ending was way too predictable. All in all, while I quite enjoyed The Midnight Library while reading it, the book left no deeper mark. ...more
When I was in high school, the history of the Roman Empire seemed fun and cool. I admired Rome’s long-lasting military and political dominance over thWhen I was in high school, the history of the Roman Empire seemed fun and cool. I admired Rome’s long-lasting military and political dominance over the Mediterranean and its vast cultural heritage, which we can still appreciate today. However, looking back, I realise I viewed the Roman Empire as a static, larger-than-life entity. Yes, I knew of the role of the Senate and the Consuls; I knew of the legal statuses of various classes of people; I knew of Rome’s military campaigns and construction projects.
Yet, I have never truly acknowledged how the Empire had developed and how the individual emperors had changed its course. I was not aware of how the capital, little by little, had lost its dominant position in the Empire, nor how those who would have been once perceived as outsiders and second-class inhabitants of the Empire came to hold more power in later centuries. I did not know how fragile the political order had been, nor how suddenly an era of stability could have been replaced by disorder following a death of a successful emperor. I was not able to appreciate the legacy of emperors like Tiberius, who had influenced Rome’s foreign policy, Vespasian, who had shown that the Empire would survive even without the Julio-Claudian dynasty, and Septimus Severus, who had opened Rome to the talent from the provinces.
That’s perhaps what I enjoyed the most – realising how the Empire had been shaped and transformed. Considering I also found the book easy to read and informative, and I rather enjoyed how Strauss sometimes described the same events or same characters from the perspective of different emperors, I think four stars is a fair rating....more
I share a lot of Fromm’s fundamental insights. He believes people are overly occupied with how to be loved, focI was recommended the book by a friend.
I share a lot of Fromm’s fundamental insights. He believes people are overly occupied with how to be loved, focusing on how to appear more attractive to the opposite sex, rather than dedicating their time to the issue of how to love. For Fromm, loving another person means active giving to another person. So far so good.
Then, however, Fromm starts making a ton of assumptions about everything from gender roles to religion and the state of our society, none of which is based on any data and/or scientific research and most of which can be easily argued against, if not disproved, by reasoning or evidence. What’s worse, however, is Fromm’s main argument: the idea that love is fully about the act of giving, not about the act of receiving. As much as Fromm’s view on the differences between father’s love and mother’s love annoy me, it is this fundamental view, which is the most problematic, for his entire thesis is based upon it. Fromm, in essence, seems to postulate that those who love have love always reflected back at them, which is, honestly, not true – a relationship, in which one person commits domestic violence, will never be loving no matter how much the victim may love the perpetrator. By completely denying the importance of being loved by others, of feeling loved, Fromm’s thesis loses much of its appeal, and the occasional decent remark here and there cannot salvage it....more
Rozhovor s autorem v DVTV mě zaujal velmi; kniha mě však zklamala. Sensationalistické, bulvární vyprávění, v němž jsou postupně očerněni všichni členoRozhovor s autorem v DVTV mě zaujal velmi; kniha mě však zklamala. Sensationalistické, bulvární vyprávění, v němž jsou postupně očerněni všichni členové rodiny až na samotného autora, mi nesedlo, navíc knize by bezpochyby prospěl zdatný editor, který by vyškrtal zkratovité dialogy, jimiž je doprovázena každá scéna, či zbytečné dějové odbočky. Takto totiž kniha nefunguje ani jako upřímná výpověď, ani jako řemeslně zdatně podané literární dílo....more
A beautifully written account of life during the civil war. My sole criticism is the near-complete avoidance of the subject after which the book is naA beautifully written account of life during the civil war. My sole criticism is the near-complete avoidance of the subject after which the book is named – Ishmael Beah's memories of being a child soldier. Rather than evaluating the two-year period which Beah spent with the army, the book touches upon his first battle and then immediately skips the rest of the fighting and speaks of Beah's experiences in the UNICEF reintegration camp. I doubt this would be due to the fact that Beah, being under the influence of drugs, would not remember much about the two years – he can vividly recall certain moments when asked by a nurse about his injuries. Instead, it seems that what the army – and perhaps even Beah – had done was no better than what the despised rebels had done, resulting in the decision to keep those memories out of the book; after all, Beah himself mentions at one point that they killed everyone in a village, which they looted. As such, the memoirs make you wonder what war crimes and crimes against humanity, especially with regard to sexual violence, Beah and his friends committed, and how successful his rehabilitation was if Beah underplayed the crimes he had perpetrated....more
My view on the refugee crisis has left me with few intellectual allies. On one hand, I did not share the view that the refugees would bring about the My view on the refugee crisis has left me with few intellectual allies. On one hand, I did not share the view that the refugees would bring about the end of our civilisation; on the other, the presumption that countries could accept hundreds of thousands of people without experiencing a rise of crime and other problems has always felt incredibly naive and made me wonder if some people had ever looked into the long-term impacts of mass migration on African countries.
In The Strange Death of Europe, Douglas Murray, obviously, defends the former thesis: the view of the apocalyptic effects that migration will have on European civilisation. However, unlike the Facebook posts of most anti-immigration warriors, his book is well-argued and shooting it down for perceived 'racism' or 'xenophobia' would be insulting to the debate that we need to have.
While I do not share the author’s opinion on the interconnectivity of the European civilisation with Christianity, I have been intrigued by many of his arguments on the state of the European civilisation, especially by the point that we tend to be masters of self-imposing barriers on our speech and champions of self-criticism. Taken as such, Murray's book is less about the threat posed from the outside and more about the threat posed from within – the threat arising from how we subjectively perceive our identity and role in the world.
Below are some of the excerpts, which I have highlighted in my edition.
“It is remarkable how restricted we made our discussion even whilst we opened our home to the world.”
“We know that we Europeans cannot become whatever we like. We cannot become Indian or Chinese, for instance. And yet we believe that anyone in the world can move to Europe and become European.”
“If it is possible to praise mass immigration for making us richer as a whole, it should also be possible to explain that the process has made us poorer in some ways, not least in introducing or re-introducing cultural problems that we might have hoped never to see.”
“Few would argue that Japan is a barbarous country for implementing its strict migration rules.”
“The political calculus appears to be that making such statements is an entirely cost-free exercise. Except that it isn’t. Because nations whose leaders appear to be constantly offering up apologies for their country’s history may finally appear (in a world in which such apologies are prodigious from some countries yet entirely absent from others) to be nations that have special cause for such guilt.”
“A European would be scolded for blaming every African for the crimes of every other African, or any Asian for the crimes of any Asian. But generalisations and a spreading around of historic European faults and crimes onto Europeans as a whole is normal and acceptable.”
“Today the antagonists of European culture and civilisation throw many accusations on the continent. They say that our history has been especially cruel, whereas it has been no crueller than any other civilisation and less cruel than many. They claim that we act only for ourselves, whereas it is doubtful if any society in the history has become so unwilling to defend its own or more ready to assume the opinions of its detractors. And we remain among the only cultures on earth so open to self-criticism.”...more
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