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Trauma is strange. Our own attempts to assuage it, can sustain it. These stories offer insight into the well-being of post-trauma victims. So, so enlightening, so far.

I set it aside. Just returned it to the lib. two weeks late. I'll try reading it again when I'm in the mood for a book w. a lonely, pessimistic main character.

I'm on my Utopian kick. Here is the next book I've chosen. It's so nice to get back to Atwood after a lengthy sabbatical. She paints dramatics without bombs, without weapons, but with a lack of them.
And the fear of resigning to a hopeless world without a fight, is far more thrilling than any despotic regime ever could be.

So I went to go get Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood at the library today. This was in instead. So before I start another series, I ought to finish this one. Looking forward to the read. Looking forward to setting Suzanna Collins down, and picking up Margaret Atwood. No offense: I'm just looking for some substance, lately.

This is no exaggeration: I have never encountered such an enigmatic character as Bernard Marx. He's been faced with an impossible world, and this has made him an impossible character, but the man infuriates me. This rage is tempered by the same feelings Mustafa M feels towards him: mirth. Rather, void of the Controller's ego, pity. I've run myself ragged trying to verbalize this...This was the best I could do.

The material is art, and such artfully worded prose, too! (...Recalling the Seinfeld episode regarding exclamation points......) Bernard, John, Lelinda, fat half-savage lady...They each represent a person without both feet healthily rooted in either side of the train tracks. I'm thinking that the missing SOMA is no mistake, on the part of Bernard.

All parts are working towards the same end. However, Bernard Marx is the "ker-plunk" in an otherwise well-oiled machine. Some parts don't last as long as others by design. Some carry the burden of other working parts, that they may live on. Marx is the latter. I don't like him, but I also pity him. Just take some SOMA, bro.

I LOVE the way the author has chosen to open the novel with a tour of the Hatchery and Conditioning center. Where better to begin, than at the beginning?

The foreword in this book is a practical man looking at himself, a radical, in hindsight. Will be fun to reread the intro after the novel.
The first chapter brings Frankenstein to mind, as this far-fetched scientific archive brings pre-destined life to embryos. Nevertheless, it shows the author's ability to see things through, to an end. I expect this to be an engaging and revealing read.

Finally found my copy beneath the car seat. Reread intro, first chapter, and the diction of the novel is easily understandable now. The pages are flowing the way they ought to. Enjoying the ride.

Developing a love-hate relationship with the Russified? English.