Bill Chaisson (Author of Of a Feather)

Bill Chaisson rated a book really liked it I Heard Her Call My Name: A Memoir of Transition by Lucy Sante	Error rating book. Refresh and try again. Rate this book Clear rating 1 of 5 stars 2 of 5 stars 3 of 5 stars 4 of 5 stars 5 of 5 stars
I could not resist looking at some of the other Goodreads reviews of this memoir. I felt like there was a generation gap between some readers and this very Baby Boom author. What he thinks of as "being a woman" is in part what the progressive members ...more
Apr 23, 2026 06:30PM · like · see review · preview book See a Problem? We’d love your help. Let us know what’s wrong with this preview of I Heard Her Call My Name by Lucy Sante. Problem: Details (if other): Thanks for telling us about the problem. Not the book you’re looking for? Preview — I Heard Her Call My Name by Lucy Sante <iframe sandbox id="wrongBookKindlePreviewScreen">
Bill Chaisson started reading Bernie for Burlington: The Rise of the People's Politician by Dan Chiasson	Error rating book. Refresh and try again. Rate this book Clear rating 1 of 5 stars 2 of 5 stars 3 of 5 stars 4 of 5 stars 5 of 5 stars
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Bill Chaisson rated a book liked it The Birds of Heaven: Travels with Cranes by Peter Matthiessen	Error rating book. Refresh and try again. Rate this book Clear rating 1 of 5 stars 2 of 5 stars 3 of 5 stars 4 of 5 stars 5 of 5 stars
This is the second non-fiction Peter Matthiessen book I have read, the other being The Snow Leopard. The earlier book was surprisingly gripping because Matthiessen was going through the loss of his second wife—from whom he was estranged—from cancer. ...more
Apr 21, 2026 04:02AM · like · see review
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Bill Chaisson rated a book liked it The Birds of Heaven: Travels with Cranes by Peter Matthiessen	Error rating book. Refresh and try again. Rate this book Clear rating 1 of 5 stars 2 of 5 stars 3 of 5 stars 4 of 5 stars 5 of 5 stars
This is the second non-fiction Peter Matthiessen book I have read, the other being The Snow Leopard. The earlier book was surprisingly gripping because Matthiessen was going through the loss of his second wife—from whom he was estranged—from cancer. ...more
Apr 20, 2026 06:02PM · like · see review
Bill Chaisson wants to read Bernie for Burlington: The Rise of the People's Politician by Dan Chiasson	Error rating book. Refresh and try again. Rate this book Clear rating 1 of 5 stars 2 of 5 stars 3 of 5 stars 4 of 5 stars 5 of 5 stars
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Bill Chaisson rated a book liked it With the Lightnings (RCN, #1) by David Drake	Error rating book. Refresh and try again. Rate this book Clear rating 1 of 5 stars 2 of 5 stars 3 of 5 stars 4 of 5 stars 5 of 5 stars
Military science-fiction is a foreign world to me in so many ways. My primary difficulty with it is its presumption that the subculture of the armed forces is superior to that of mainstream civilian life because its members are highly trained, more d ...more
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Bill Chaisson made a comment on Ian Rogers’s review of Franny and Zooey " 'Franny and Zooey' is the Salinger book that sticks with me--along with some the stories in 9 Stories--in the sense that I have recurring visions of a ...more "
Apr 03, 2026 08:09AM · see review
Bill Chaisson is currently reading The Birds of Heaven: Travels with Cranes by Peter Matthiessen	Error rating book. Refresh and try again. Rate this book Clear rating 1 of 5 stars 2 of 5 stars 3 of 5 stars 4 of 5 stars 5 of 5 stars
Mar 21, 2026 04:10AM · like
Bill Chaisson rated a book liked it Blue Remembered Earth (Poseidon's Children, #1) by Alastair Reynolds	Error rating book. Refresh and try again. Rate this book Clear rating 1 of 5 stars 2 of 5 stars 3 of 5 stars 4 of 5 stars 5 of 5 stars
Alastair Reynolds has created in Blue Remembered Earth a future that I would not want to live in. All of Earth is part of a "surveilled world" policed by "the Mechanism." Everyone has mandatory neural implants that connect them to the Mechanism. Any ...more
Mar 20, 2026 06:39PM · like · see review

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I Heard Her Call My Name: A Memoir of Transition
by Lucy Sante

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I could not resist looking at some of the other Goodreads reviews of this memoir. I felt like there was a generation gap between some readers and this very Baby Boom author. What he thinks of as "being a woman" is in part what the progressive members I could not resist looking at some of the other Goodreads reviews of this memoir. I felt like there was a generation gap between some readers and this very Baby Boom author. What he thinks of as "being a woman" is in part what the progressive members of generation think or thought what it means to be female, which seemed to disappoint apparently younger readers But there was also a culture gap. Lucy Sante is a very New York person and she is New York in a rarefied way that she refuses to apologize for. Sante is a downtown New Yorker who was young and bohemian during a time and in a place many readers seem to no nothing about. If you don't like it, as they say in New York, go fuck yourself.

The structure of this book—which deterred some readers—is not the least bit confusing. Sante jumps back and forth between two stories, one begins with her decision to transition from male to female and the other is composed of salient vignettes about her youth. Both narratives move relentessly forward; there is very little jumping around in time. This book is filled with names, many times simply first names, like Jean-Michel [Basquiat] and Darryl [Pinckney], and several are mentioned only once or a few times. This is not a story about the people Sante knew; it is his/her story and significantly about how she felt a certain unconquerable distance from everyone around her, nearly all the time.

Sante's parents' emigrated from Belgium with little Luc in tow three times. They were looking for economic stability and did so by trial and error. Sante has told this story in more detail in his Factory of Facts, which is what the title advertises: a very impersonal personal history. The past she passes through the same life history in I Heard Her Call My Name is still a bit cool for some readers' tastes (judging from several comments), but that is just their tough luck. Sante is a genuine intellectual and more than a little authentically alienated from what most people regard as normal life or normal emotions.

The problem with the book is that this alienation is not entirely due to gender dysphoria and I didn't think Sante truly teased apart the various causes for his nearly life-long, pre-"egg cracking" neuroses. In the end he simply states that solving the dysphoria through transition has made him the happiest he has ever felt, but he is still an atypical person, regardless of gender. His mother's rigid Catholicism and her imposition of it on both her husband and her son, seems to be the single most perverting force in young Luc/Lucy Sante's life. She had a peasant Catholic outlook that was entirely free of theology and overstuffed with judgments, condemnations, fears, and loathing. Because young Luc did not in the least share her outlook, she openly hated him. That's a pretty tough mother to grow up with, even without gender dysphoria.

In I Heard Her Call My Name Sante is much more candid about her own life than she was in the earlier memoir. Her teenage years are described as lonely and yet his stories are of parties, theatre productions, and literary pursuits. We hear much about her bad behavior through her twenties (drug use, petulant tantrums) and she is quite honest about how her low esteem hampered her personally and professionally at every turn. Although she never managed to finish college, she teaches writing at Bard and has a successful freelance writing career. Sante, in other words, managed to succeed in life while still being continually miserable. And now, she isn't. All I can say is "Brava" and "carry on." ...more

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Bernie for Burlington: The Rise of the People's Politician
by Dan Chiasson

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The Birds of Heaven by Peter Matthiessen

The Birds of Heaven: Travels with Cranes
by Peter Matthiessen

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This is the second non-fiction Peter Matthiessen book I have read, the other being The Snow Leopard. The earlier book was surprisingly gripping because Matthiessen was going through the loss of his second wife—from whom he was estranged—from cancer. This is the second non-fiction Peter Matthiessen book I have read, the other being The Snow Leopard. The earlier book was surprisingly gripping because Matthiessen was going through the loss of his second wife—from whom he was estranged—from cancer. He accompanied a single biologist, George Schaller, throughout the book and never saw a single snow leopard.

The Birds of Heaven is a quite different book. It is assembled over many years from several magazine articles and other chapters written expressly for this collection. He travels around the world to see all 15 crane species and accompanies about 20 different biologists of several different nationalities. But the biggest difference between this and the earlier book is Matthiessen's outlook on life. Whereas in The Snow Leopard he was melancholy and intensely reflective, in The Birds of Heaven he is angry and disappointed at the state of the environment and with humanity in general. The Koreans come in for some of his snidest judgments, but the Chinese and Russians fare little better.

It was striking to me that the final two chapters on the sandhill and whooping crane, the only two North American species, are the most upbeat in tone and cleanly written. Although the whooping crane is by far the rarest crane species, the focused and successful conservation effort that has so far saved it is imbued with far more hope than the campaigns to save the Siberian, Japanese or white-naped cranes, all of which survive only in flocks in the low four figures.

Matthiessen can be a very lyrical writer and there are passages in this book that are quite beautiful, but more of it is weighed down by his invective against the greed and cruelty of his fellow human beings and he has a tendency to go on political rants that are quite esoteric, especially a quarter century after the book was published. Anyone who wishes to read a purely natural history book will be impatient with the diatribes about foolish land-use practices and boondoogle dam or drainage projects in desperately poor regions of Asia and Africa.

However, those who share his feelings will be glad to have someone as eloquent and magisterial put them into words and really let the idiots have it. George Archibald, the head of the International Crane Foundation, is a constant thread through the book and comes off as a reasonable man. His job is to win friends and influence people and he seems to be good at it. Matthiessen simply seems to see himself as having a quite different job: he is outraged and sad and he probably has a lot of company.

Twenty-five years later many of the cranes are still endangered, some more so. Most of it is due to habitat loss. Several are specialized birds that require specific habitats. The Florida population that Matthiessen expressed so much hope for in the final chapter does not seem to be viable. It is slowly dying out since captive-raised birds stopped being introduced. The common crane of Eurasia and the sandhill crane of North America, however, are widespread birds with catholic tastes seem to be increasing their numbers.

Matthiessen himself was part of a relict population, an haute bourgeois WASP, who attended Hotchkiss and Yale and worked for the CIA, he was part of a hegemony that he rebelled against but never really deserted. He lived in a narrow world of spartan world travel with a home base in the Hamptons. He resembled a white-naped crane much more than he did a common crane and his sympathies in The Birds of Heaven are clear. ...more

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I Heard Her Call My Name: A Memoir of Transition
by Lucy Sante

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The Birds of Heaven: Travels with Cranes
by Peter Matthiessen

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This is the second non-fiction Peter Matthiessen book I have read, the other being The Snow Leopard. The earlier book was surprisingly gripping because Matthiessen was going through the loss of his second wife—from whom he was estranged—from cancer. This is the second non-fiction Peter Matthiessen book I have read, the other being The Snow Leopard. The earlier book was surprisingly gripping because Matthiessen was going through the loss of his second wife—from whom he was estranged—from cancer. He accompanied a single biologist, George Schaller, throughout the book and never saw a single snow leopard.

The Birds of Heaven is a quite different book. It is assembled over many years from several magazine articles and other chapters written expressly for this collection. He travels around the world to see all 15 crane species and accompanies about 20 different biologists of several different nationalities. But the biggest difference between this and the earlier book is Matthiessen's outlook on life. Whereas in The Snow Leopard he was melancholy and intensely reflective, in The Birds of Heaven he is angry and disappointed at the state of the environment and with humanity in general. The Koreans come in for some of his snidest judgments, but the Chinese and Russians fare little better.

It was striking to me that the final two chapters on the sandhill and whooping crane, the only two North American species, are the most upbeat in tone and cleanly written. Although the whooping crane is by far the rarest crane species, the focused and successful conservation effort that has so far saved it is imbued with far more hope than the campaigns to save the Siberian, Japanese or white-naped cranes, all of which survive only in flocks in the low four figures.

Matthiessen can be a very lyrical writer and there are passages in this book that are quite beautiful, but more of it is weighed down by his invective against the greed and cruelty of his fellow human beings and he has a tendency to go on political rants that are quite esoteric, especially a quarter century after the book was published. Anyone who wishes to read a purely natural history book will be impatient with the diatribes about foolish land-use practices and boondoogle dam or drainage projects in desperately poor regions of Asia and Africa.

However, those who share his feelings will be glad to have someone as eloquent and magisterial put them into words and really let the idiots have it. George Archibald, the head of the International Crane Foundation, is a constant thread through the book and comes off as a reasonable man. His job is to win friends and influence people and he seems to be good at it. Matthiessen simply seems to see himself as having a quite different job: he is outraged and sad and he probably has a lot of company.

Twenty-five years later many of the cranes are still endangered, some more so. Most of it is due to habitat loss. Several are specialized birds that require specific habitats. The Florida population that Matthiessen expressed so much hope for in the final chapter does not seem to be viable. It is slowly dying out since captive-raised birds stopped being introduced. The common crane of Eurasia and the sandhill crane of North America, however, are widespread birds with catholic tastes seem to be increasing their numbers.

Matthiessen himself was part of a relict population, an haute bourgeois WASP, who attended Hotchkiss and Yale and worked for the CIA, he was part of a hegemony that he rebelled against but never really deserted. He lived in a narrow world of spartan world travel with a home base in the Hamptons. He resembled a white-naped crane much more than he did a common crane and his sympathies in The Birds of Heaven are clear. ...more

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Bernie for Burlington: The Rise of the People's Politician
by Dan Chiasson

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With the Lightnings (RCN, #1)
by David Drake

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Military science-fiction is a foreign world to me in so many ways. My primary difficulty with it is its presumption that the subculture of the armed forces is superior to that of mainstream civilian life because its members are highly trained, more d Military science-fiction is a foreign world to me in so many ways. My primary difficulty with it is its presumption that the subculture of the armed forces is superior to that of mainstream civilian life because its members are highly trained, more disciplined, more dedicated to a cause and to principles, and generally better people. Unless they aren't, because hey, you need villains.

David Drake has created a world sometime in an indefinite future in which two human empires—Cinnabar and the Alliance of Free Stars—are fighting over vast stretches of the universe, flying among their conquests through "sponge space" on dynamically conservative tubes bristling with arrays of masts that catch some sort of quantum wind for propulsion. This is a long series of books, so eventually this sprawling aspect of the battlefield may be important, but in With the Lightnings nearly everything takes place on the little backward planet of Kostroma where Cinnabar citizens Adele Mundy and Daniel Leary find themselves in straitened circumstances.

Both protagonists—the narrative alternates between them—are from powerful families on Cinnabar, but both are alienated in different ways. Leary is feuding with his politician father and Mundy's family has been annihilated by the Cinnabar hegemony for plotting a democratic counter-revolution. This brings up another general problem I have with military fiction: democracy is nearly always viewed in a negative light, while hierarchical, authoritarian regimes (surprising similar to, uh, the military) are presented as natural and necessary.

Drake gives both Mundy and Leary a handful of character flaws that make the reader irritated with them and doubtful of their hero potential. But these recede as the stakes get higher and the danger grows. Because both of them are from noble houses, their sense of honor is heightened, which sets them apart from the provincials of Kostroma and the less well-born of both the Cinnabar and Alliance forces. Drake has a romantic view of working class people: that they are smart, capable and loyal if trained properly by their betters and that hidden among their ranks are a few geniuses, like Leary's servant Hogg, who is a cross between Wooster's Jeeves and Batman's Alfred.

Drake's writing style is direct and without a lot of ornamentation, which is good, because there is an awful lot of plot to lay out. Leary's fascination with natural history was a nice touch. Apparently this Republic of Cinnabar Navy (RCN) series was inspired by the O'Brien Aubrey-Maturin historical fictions. The relationship between Mundy and Leary is, however, perhaps more reminiscent of the paradigmatic Kirk-Spock duo. Mundy is coldly logical and gifted in technical matters, while Leary is passionate, principled, and prone to bending the rules. So, it at times seems a little jarring when a love of collecting and identifying insects—a real Stephen Maturin thing—shows up in a character who is so James T. Kirkish. I accepted it all as humor and homage and moved on.

The depiction of Kostroma and its citizens is a little harder to swallow. It is a lush, resource-rich, backwater of a place where the residents are indolent, prone to corruption, and constantly feuding among tribal factions for no higher purpose. I think Graham Greene was kinder to non-European cultures than David Drake. Neither Cinnabar nor the Alliance are particularly enlightened it must be said. Both empires seem like mercantilist exploiters bent on little more than enriching themselves in what they have—in spite of the vastness of the universe—made into a zero-sum game.

You have to root for Leary and Mundy rather than either of the empires or colonial Kostroma. Drake gives you no other choice than to accept that individuals are more noble and laudable than the societies they serve. Because he was a Vietnam veteran one can hardly dispute this world view. Nevertheless, I find it to be a subtle downer underlying the entire proceedings. ...more

Bill Chaisson made a comment on Ian Rogers’s review of Franny and Zooey

" 'Franny and Zooey' is the Salinger book that sticks with me--along with some the stories in 9 Stories--in the sense that I have recurring visions of a ...more "

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The Birds of Heaven: Travels with Cranes
by Peter Matthiessen

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Blue Remembered Earth by Alastair Reynolds

Blue Remembered Earth (Poseidon's Children, #1)
by Alastair Reynolds

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Alastair Reynolds has created in Blue Remembered Earth a future that I would not want to live in. All of Earth is part of a "surveilled world" policed by "the Mechanism." Everyone has mandatory neural implants that connect them to the Mechanism. Any Alastair Reynolds has created in Blue Remembered Earth a future that I would not want to live in. All of Earth is part of a "surveilled world" policed by "the Mechanism." Everyone has mandatory neural implants that connect them to the Mechanism. Any act of violence, even if it merely involves punching another person, is instantly halted by the Mechanism through neural inference that renders the offending individual senseless. In this way a perpetually peaceful global society is ensured.

This is a very grim view of the 22nd century but Reynolds does not seem to judge it very harshly. There is a "descrutinized zone" on the Moon, where people can live free of surveillance and the Mechanism, but it comes across as equivalent to a small anarchist neighborhood in the middle of a big city, a largely gestural construct. Reynolds renders its inhabitants, including Sunday Akinya, one of the two protagonist siblings, as faintly ridiculous in their wokeness.

The story begins quite slowly with a lot of world building and a lot of questions left hanging. Geoffrey Akinya and his sister are scions of a fabulously wealthy African family whose matriarch, Eunice, made their fortune in space technology that opened up the solar system to commercial exploitation. As the novel opens, she ostensibly dies. But as the book wears on, the reader can not help wondering if she is really dead. There are so many representations of her scattered through the story in the form of "golems" and "constructs" and "artilects" that what constitutes living versus dead is rather called into question.

Reynolds is certainly preoccupied with communication too. Google glasses never caught on, but Reynolds takes them to a whole new level by having neural implants—mandatory and optional—added to human nervous systems so that they can perceive "the aug," which essentially makes reality into a screen full of hyperlinks that can be opened through "voking." Rather than Facetiming with someone, you can send your entire consciousness elsewhere to inhabit a robot or another human (a "warmblood") and carry on a conversation.

As someone who is not terribly fond of the world created by smartphones, all this sounds horrific to me. No one in the book is particularly bothered by it, not even Sunday, who lives in the Descrutinized Zone, but doesn't seem annoyed by the added scrutiny when she has cause to leave it.

The sheer amount of inventiveness and its cohesion to create an imagined future is, however, impressive and, as the story kicks into higher gears after the first 100 pages or so, fascinating. This never quite becomes a space opera though; there is very little cowboying about in spite of there being a fair amount of hair-raising action and adventure. Sunday and Geoffrey are both nerdy and entitled and neither one of them starts out as swashbuckling nor do they become so in response to being chased, assaulted, nearly killed and generally hounded for much of the book. They grow wiser and do brave things but they never develop a swagger.

Interestingly, one set of sort-of bad guys in Blue Remembered Earth are Hector and Lucas, Sunday and Geoffrey's cousins. They are devoted businessmen who claim to always be putting the honor and good of the family before their own wishes or ambitions. They regard Sunday, who is an artist, and Geoffrey, who studies elephants, as ne'er-do-wells who merely live off the wealth of the family. Sunday and Geoffrey's defense is that they don't live ostentatious lives, which is true, but not really the point.

The most intriguing character is Eunice, the matriarch, who keeps reappearing in various electronic forms and imparting information about the past and perhaps some wisdom here and there. Her no-nonsense rationality is in strict contrast to the emotionalism of all her grandchildren. Reynolds seems to represent her as not very likeable, but she is in fact the most admirable person in the book. She is the true Romantic, while Sunday and Geoffrey think they are but are in fact simply not very pragmatic people.

In the final couple of chapters Reynolds is clearly setting the stage for the next volume of Poseidon's Children and that feels like a bit of a let-down to this reader. In postponing the resolution of some issues and hurriedly wrapping up others, Reynolds makes the end of Blue Remembered Earth somewhat anti-climactic. ...more

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