I've been following Genevieve Cogman's Invisible Library series for a few years now, so naturally I was very excited this winter to read the most recent installment, The Dark Archive (book 7, if you're keeping track). It drew me in just as quickly and thoroughly as the previous books! If you're not familiar with this series, they're fantasy books for adults that involve multiple worlds, spies, thieves, detectives, dragons, fae, and just the tiniest hint of romance. The writing is snarky and fun; the characters can be slightly stock but are delightful nonetheless; the action and adventure are practically nonstop. I don't want to write too much more about this book, to avoid giving away spoilers for earlier in the series, but if you enjoy fantasy and plenty of action, I highly recommend this series. It's always good for distraction and amusement.
I LOVE to read, and by writing about what I read, I hope to share some of my passion and inspire people to read books they might not otherwise consider. Or to pick up any book and read because it's fun and because reading makes the world a better place.
Sunday, February 28, 2021
Friday, February 12, 2021
Chapter Two Hundred Fifty: We Ride upon Sticks
I thoroughly enjoyed this novel! We Ride upon Sticks, by Quan Barry, is set in Danvers, MA, so it has local interest for me, taking place in a town right near where I grew up. It follows the 1989 Danvers High School varsity field hockey team in their quest to go from the second-worst team in the league to the state championships. How do they decide to get there? A little modern-day witchcraft, of course. That's where the second component of this tale comes in; let's call it a remix of the Salem Witch Trials, but mercifully 100% less deadly.
One thing that really stood out about this book is its narration, from the third person plural. It's never clear exactly who's narrating, and I came to decide it was the team itself, somehow, though I'll admit that doesn't make sense entirely. I can't quite square it in my head how that would work, but to me that felt like part of the magic at work in this story. Or maybe it's The Claw or Le Splotch, which both get ascribed dark intentions and uncanny actions--you'll simply have to read the book to find out more about Them (always referred to capitally, even via pronoun). That should also give you a taste of this story's humor, which was a major plus for me. I love a funny book, and this one often had me chuckling aloud as I read.
Equally impressive is Barry's ability to create such a large cast of principal characters--a whole field hockey team's worth!--as well as secondary characters who all feel distinct. In a lesser book, it could feel hard to keep the characters straight and separate in my mind, but each of the team members was so well-characterized that I had no trouble keeping them clear, which was essential since the story focuses on different characters at different times. It was a wild ride, but I was happily along for it!
We Ride upon Sticks reminded me a bit of Grady Hendrix's novels My Best Friend's Exorcism and The Southern Book Club's Guide to Slaying Vampires, though it was definitely lighter than either of those titles, so I enjoyed it even more than I liked those books. Despite the witchcraft elements, it reads far more like realistic fiction than fantasy; above all, it's a story of friendship and self-discovery. If you're looking for a coming-of-age story that manages to blend humor with more serious themes, it's well worth checking out.
Tuesday, February 2, 2021
Chapter Two Hundred Forty-Nine: The Black God's Drums
The Black God's Drums is a captivating novella by P. Djèlí Clark set in an alternate-history New Orleans. It's amazing how much world-building and characterization are contained in this slim novella: at just over 100 pages in print, Clark manages to convey the details of a world where the American Civil War dragged on for eight years before an unsteady truce was brokered, partly as a result of a slave uprising in New Orleans, which resulted in the designation of the Crescent City as a free and independent entity from the Union and the Confederacy, where African Americans are still enslaved at the time of the story (late 1800s) and kept submissive by forced inhalation of a gas that destroys their free will. Haiti has emerged as a world power in this universe, partly as the result of a fantastic weapon they invented that allows them to unleash a storm worse than the most intense hurricane wherever they choose. (They've only tried that once, but the threat was enough to gain them a place on the world stage.)
There are gods, too--one of whom resides partially with the protagonist, Creeper (real name: Jacqueline), who both offers Creeper useful warnings and also sometimes tries to get her to act in ways she doesn't want to. Creeper feels fully formed from the start, even if her street-urchin, tomboy character is a bit of a trope, because of the way she speaks, her very keen observations of the world around her, and her thoughtful negotiations of the state of her co-existence with an old and powerful goddess.
In addition to all of this, there are airships! It's alternate history meets science fiction meets fantasy meets steampunk all in one novella, and it just works. If you have an hour or two to spare and you want to escape into another world, read this.
Chapter Two Hundred Forty-Eight: Can't Even
I finished Can't Even: How Millennials Became the Burnout Generation by Anne Helen Petersen last night, after a few heady days of feeling compelled to read it during almost any available moment, and now I want to recommend it to everyone I know, millennial or not (though I think it will appeal most to millennials).
If you're a millennial yourself, there's a good chance you'll find at least parts of this book of cultural criticism cathartic and validating, and if you're in an older generation, I suspect it might offer some insights into millennials--or, if you disagree with Petersen's assessments of our lives, I suppose you might end up feeling that we're all just lazy and entitled whiners for daring to hope that life can be more than just near-constant work that barely allows us to maintain our parents' standard of living. If you're in Gen Z, I'm not honestly sure how pertinent this book is to you, except to offer a critique of the currently prevailing trends, which you might use to try to avoid millennial problems altogether.
I will say that sometimes just reading this book for a while at a time made me feel a bit burned out and depressed, so as fascinating as it was, I wouldn't suggest trying to sit down and read it through all in one go. Have something lighter on hand by way of a pick-me-up. Still, it was nice to see so much of me reflected in this book--the good and the bad--and it was also nice to get insights into the experiences of people in my generation who grew up and currently live in very different circumstances from me.
Ultimately, I'd boil this book down to an explanation of why life often feels so hard for millennials and why it's okay to push against the things that make life so hard. It's not a self-help book--the author explicitly avoids giving checklists or suggestions on quick fixes because those won't actually relieve the problems at hand--but it does offer a framework for reconsidering things like the compulsion to monetize every single moment of every single day and the internalization that if you have a job but don't have enough money (to save, to pay down student loans, to buy a house, to have kids, etc etc etc) it's entirely your fault for not working hard enough.
For anyone interested in millennials and our culture, this book offers lots of interesting insights.