Yzabel / December 31, 2016

Review: All Darling Children

All Darling ChildrenAll Darling Children by Katrina Monroe

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

All boys grow up, except one.

On the tenth anniversary of her mother’s death, fourteen-year-old Madge Darling’s grandmother suffers a heart attack. With the overbearing Grandma Wendy in the hospital, Madge runs away to Chicago, intent on tracking down a woman she believes is actually her mother.

On her way to the Windy City, a boy named Peter Pan lures Madge to Neverland, a magical place where children can remain young forever. While Pan plays puppet master in a twisted game only he understands, Madge discovers the disturbing price of Peter Pan’s eternal youth.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley.]

I read Barrie’s book, as well as watched Disney’s Peter Pan movie, so long ago that I honestly can’t remember all details. Still, this retelling looked interesting, and so I decided to give it a try.

Madge, Wendy’s granddaughter, lives a not-so-happy life with her grandma, and keeps trying to escape to find her mother who may or may not be in Chicago. One night, when she finally gets a chance to leave, she gets spirited to Neverland: another chance, one to learn more about her family, her mum, and everything Wendy never told her. However, Neverland quickly turns out to be more terrifying than an enchanted island full of fairies and forever-boys. Clearly not the fairy tale a lot of children and people think about when they hear the name of ‘Peter Pan’ mentioned.

There are interesting themes and ideas in this book: what the boys’ rituals involve exactly, what happened to Jane, the slow disintegration of Neverland, what happened to Hook and Tiger Lily… I’ve always liked the “Hook as an ambiguous villain” approach, and here, he’s definitely of the ambiguous kind, since it’s 1) difficult to know if he wants to help or hinder, and 2) he’s no saint, but Pan is no saint either, so one can understand the bad blood between those two.

I was expecting more, though, and had trouble with some inconsistencies throughout the story. The time period, for one: it seems Madge is living in the 1990s-2000s—welll, some very close contemporary period at any rate—, which doesn’t fit with the early-1900s of the original story. I know it’s not the main focus, yet it kept bothering me no matter what: there’s no way Wendy could still be alive, or at least fit enough to bring up a teenager, and she would’ve had to give birth to Madge’s mother pretty late in life as well. And since there’s no hint that ‘maybe she stayed in Neverland for decades, which is why Jane was born so late,’ so it doesn’t add up. Also, Michael is still alive at the end? How long has it been? He must be over 100 or something by then.

None of the characters particularly interested me either. I liked the concept of Pan as tyrant, but I would’ve appreciate more background on this. And while Madge was described as someone who was strong enough to make things change, her actions throughout the story didn’t exactly paint her in that light; it was more about the other characters saying she was like that, or telling her what she had to do, and her reacting.

I found the ending a bit of an anticlimax. Things went down a bit too easily (I had expected more cunning, or more of a fight, so to speak?)… though props on the very last chapter for the people it shows, and for being in keeping with the grim underlying themes of Neverland (kids who ‘never grow up’, huh).

Conclusion: Worth a try, but definitely not as good as what I expected from a Peter Pan retelling.

Yzabel / December 22, 2016

Review: The Cygnus Virus

The Cygnus VirusThe Cygnus Virus by T.J. Zakreski

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Andron Varga is a small-town lawyer on planet Terra and he’s having a bad year.

A cosmically bad year.

First, he loses the love of his life to an errant meteorite. And then his computer downloads a virus from deep space that crashes the Internet.

And not just any deep-space-Internet-crashing virus.

Its name is Cygnus and it has a plan. To hijack a human cloning project so that he can be born into the world as Jesus.

All Cygnus needs is a good lawyer willing to do very bad things.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley.]

This is rather an oddball. I couldn’t decide whether I somewhat liked it, or if it just wasn’t for me. So in the end, I guess I’m going with a “meh” rating.

This story comes with a blend of crazy sci-fi, people encoding themselves in virtual space, cloning experiments, and religious fanaticism. The parallels with our world are not only obvious but totally on purpose and often played for laughs (the Holy Cloth, lawyer jokes, and so on). This was for the most part enjoyable, and provided for a background that was both unknown but easy to understand.

The “Cygnus Virus” is also, let’s be honest, a troll, and in a way, it was fun to read about (well, provided one doesn’t squirm at the prospect of porn-bombing descriptions and e-mails containing goat pictures and the likes). Not a very “pleasant” character, for sure, and one that struck me as more immature than anything else, not to mention the bleak surroundings and situations he created for Andron and others; still, that cloning project was both hilarious and genius, when you think about it (imagine injecting a /b/-level troll into the cloned body of the next Messiah… yeah, Charlie-Foxtrot much?). OK, it’s vulgar. The Berlin sim had a vulgar side, too, however at the same time it foreshadowed the kind of decision Andron would probably have to make later, and that was interesting. And he tries, the poor guy, doing the best he can with what he has.

And the ending. Cosmic irony to the power of ten. I liked that.

On the other hand… the present tense narration just grated on my nerves from beginning to end—I think this is part of the reason why I never warmed up to the book in general. In some cases, it works, in others it fails.

Moreover, I think the story could’ve gone a bit further in Andron’s motivations and/or Cygnus’s behaviour. Considering the blurb, I expected Andron to be more ruthless, and conversely, Cygnus was more like a kid throwing a tantrum, which was fun, but dampened the potential for Evil he was bringing to Terra.

Conclusion: I liked most of the story’s themes, even though it could’ve done with less sex-troll material and with more seriously-evil instead, but the narrative tense and the outcome (and outlook on life) of some of the characters were perhaps a bit too… well, too b leak to my liking.

Yzabel / December 21, 2016

Review: Facehooked

Facehooked: How Facebook Affects Our Emotions, Relationships, and LivesFacehooked: How Facebook Affects Our Emotions, Relationships, and Lives by Suzana Flores

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

The number of Facebook users worldwide exceeded one billion in August of 2012. With the increase in Facebook users, psychologists have seen an alarming increase in the number of Facebook related complaints from their clients. Dr. Suzana Flores, clinical psychologist, has interviewed Facebook users of all ages for three years exploring the positive and negative features of Facebook and evaluating the effect it has on our lives.

Facehooked explores the problems most commonly found on Facebook, including controversial topics such as self-esteem, privacy, peer pressure, stalking, emotional manipulation, among others. Readers are not only provided with practical tools to help identify and avoid unhealthy behaviors, but also suggestions for healthier interaction on Facebook.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley.]

An interesting study on people’s behaviours and addictions on Facebook: a useful social tool in some cases, a problem in others.

To be honest, I didn’t learn anything I didn’t already know, but that’s because I’m used to social networks, and to reading about them, and to making my own mistakes on them (I was young once, too, right?). For anyone who’s interested in seeing past the surface and a mild or nonexistent usage, this study will bring enough information to be worth one’s time. It’s also interspersed with testimonies that definitely ring true, considering my own experience of Facebook (and other networks) and what I could see on them.

The book offers insights into typical online behaviours, stressing out where the problems are: not being careful enough with one’s privacy (and the consequences thereof), falling in with toxic people, checking one’s account once too many, seeking validation to the point of forgetting that it can and should come from offline life as well (not to say first and foremost), and so on. I’m positive that a lot of us, even though we probably all see ourselves in the light of “this only happens to other people”, are guilty or one or other behaviour—perhaps not in such a dramatic way, but at least slightly. Who’s never posted a selfie they made sure to embellish, or felt slightly miffed when a friend or family member posted a group picture in which we don’t show our best side?

Of course, let’s not be alarmed. Because one is on Facebook doesn’t mean they’re an addict or have psychological issues. But it’s food for thought. How many times a day do we check our social media accounts, or experience “fear of missing out”? Asking oneself this kind of question can be an eye opener—for instance, I find myself browsing FB when I’m in the bus or other “boring” situations, but I guess I could just bring a book, or chat with someone instead.

Downside: in my opinion, the book could have addressed some of these situations in more depth than just “ignore the person” or “stop checking your phone”. I assume that anyone with addictive behaviours has best seeking help, and a mere book won’t replace an actual person, however when it comes to stalker situations especially, there should be more (I mean when someone’s being stalked on Facebook—just saying “well ignore them” places the responsability on the victim’s shoulders, while the faulty person keeps doing what they shouldn’t). I guess that was not the point of the book; still, it would’ve been useful.

Conclusion: A bit too short to my liking—as usual when I’m interested in something, the more the better—yet an interesting read that I’ll recommend, especially to someone who doesn’t know much about social networks.

Yzabel / December 18, 2016

Review: The #MonuMeta Social Media Book

The #MonuMeta Social Media BookThe #MonuMeta Social Media Book by Roger Warner

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Mee Corp is the developer of the world’s number one social network, The Stream. Based at the recently sold-off Natural History Museum, it’s run by bizarre aliens whose seemingly human appearance masks a hideous secret: their sinister mission is to make (fake) people matter. Tara Tamana, The Stream s talented new Head Architect, holds the key to the city’s fate. The trouble is she s got way too much sass to figure it all out – and she’s also gone missing. Who can find her and help her save the day? Enter an ageing janitor, a large marble statue, a small bronze boy and a fairy queen. Their quest is to find the girl and save London from mind control, ham-fisted cloning, and a monstrous arachnid with a voracious appetite…

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley.]

This one was a bit of a strange read—I guess I could categorise it as an over-the-top near-future sci-fi cum fairies blend, with an underlying funny criticism of social media, abusing technology, and PR stunts? Even though it took me longer to read than I expected (mostly because I had library books I had to finish in a hurry!), in the end it was a positive read, and I had fun.

The story follows the shenanigans of animated statues, ex-librarians become janitors in a museum converted into offices for a software and social media company, genius programmers sometimes too engrossed in their code for their own goods, spirits of a fairy persuasion, and execs with a shady agenda in the name of their real boss. It has highly amusing moments (the Endless Demo!) as well as scary ones (Tara and her bucket of fake bacon in Tank #6)—yes, those vaguebooking-like descriptions are on purpose, since conveying all the weirdness of that future!London isn’t so easy in just a couple of sentences.

Obviously, the nonsense is on the surface; it does make a lot of sense underneath, provided you set aside all questions about “how can statues be animated” and “why would a person’s skin spontaneously turn blue”, which aren’t so important, in fact. I didn’t need explanations here to willingly suspend my disbelief, which is good. What mattered were the dangers looming over our “heroes”, and these were of a kind that could very well hit home at some point: that is, to which extent our daily immersion into the web and social websites, our obsession with sharing everything and knowing everything about each other online, may end up being abused and affecting us in ways we hadn’t imagined. Behind the humour and the antics of a bunch of misfits sometimes not very well-equipped to understand each other, lies this kind of questioning.

On the downside, sometimes the plot seemed to meander and lose itself, in a way that I can probably blame on plot holes rather than on “it’s meant to be weird.” (I tend to consider that a “nonsensical” story still needs an internal logic of its own to function properly, even if that logic seems complete nonsense on the outside. I hope I’m making sense here.) The villains were also a bit too much of the cartoonish kind, and while it can be fun, I keep thinking they would have remained fun yet more credible if that trait hadn’t been enhanced.

Conclusion: 3 stars—but that’s because over the top tends to be my thing, so if it isn’t yours, maybe you’ll like it less, though.

Yzabel / December 14, 2016

Review: Six

Battlestar Galactica: SixBattlestar Galactica: Six by J.T. Krul

My rating: 1 of 5 stars

Blurb:

A pivotal chapter in the history of Battlestar Galactica, the reimagined series… set before the destruction of the Twelve Colonies of Kobol! In developing the next generation of Cylons, getting the models to look human was the easy part. But acting human is another story. Witness the evolution of Number Six as she learns to live, to love… and to hate.

Review:

[I received a copy of this comics through NetGalley.]

In general, I found the artwork here problematic. The covers—both internal and external—are striking and often dramatic, and one of the reasons I requested this book; they easily evoked the internal turmoil and the ambiguity that I expect from Six. On the other hand, the inside panels, more specifically their characters, aren’t consistent enough, and not really recognisable. Which is a problem, indeed, considering they should look like their counterparts in the TV series, but don’t. Or not much. I probably wouldn’t care as much about this if the comics was a series on its own, however when it’s about translating real faces/actors to paper, it’s all the more easy to notice when it fails. Moreover, it didn’t convey the kind of feeling that would’ve paved the way to TV!Six, with her blend of seduction, ruthlessness and questioning.

I didn’t enjoy the storytelling either. I was expecting something more enthralling, that would play on Six’s psyche, what happened, what shaped her and set the foundations for how she would develop in the TV episodes. Well, it did try to explore those aspects, but the narrative(s) were too disjointed to make sense early, creating a sense of confusion—one that confuses the reader, rather than actually echoing the character’s. Also, I wouldn’t recommend it to someone who’s never watched the series: some tie-ins are understandable even when you don’t know the original universe, some others aren’t, and this one is part of the latter category.

Conclusion: 1.5 stars.

Yzabel / December 9, 2016

Review: Heartless

HeartlessHeartless by Marissa Meyer

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Long before she was the terror of Wonderland, she was just a girl who wanted to fall in love. Catherine may be one of the most desired girls in Wonderland, and a favorite of the unmarried King of Hearts, but her interests lie elsewhere. A talented baker, all she wants is to open a shop with her best friend. But according to her mother, such a goal is unthinkable for the young woman who could be the next queen.

Then Cath meets Jest, the handsome and mysterious court joker. For the first time, she feels the pull of true attraction. At the risk of offending the king and infuriating her parents, she and Jest enter into an intense, secret courtship. Cath is determined to define her own destiny and fall in love on her terms. But in a land thriving with magic, madness, and monsters, fate has other plans.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley.]

Hm. I liked the premise (telling the story of the Queen of Hearts before Alice came to Wonderland), however there were parts when I was a little… bored?

Catherine Pinkerton, daughter of a Marchess, loves nothing more than to bake, and dreams of opening a bakery with her maid and best friend Mary Ann, rather than just marrying some rich nobility son that she won’t even love. Of course, her plans get thwarted when she catches the attention of the King… or are they? When the new Court’s joker waltzes into the play, things change again, and this time, Cath may have a chance at true love. Except… We all know how the Queen of Hearts behaves in Carroll’s story, so we also know that whatever Fate has in store for those characters, it’s not a happy ending.

It’s not so easy to write a (re)telling of something whose end is already well-known, and while it was problematic, some aspects I really liked. The beginning had a certain vibrancy, what’s with the cake/bakery imagery and Catherine’s dreams, not to mention Jest’s first appearance during the ball, and the darker parts, including the meeting with the three sisters, were creepy in their own ways.

The main problem I had with this novel were its characters, and I think that had a lot to do with how I knew (or at least suspected) it would end. This time, it’s not even a case of insta-love—Cath’s and Jest’s relationship progresses quickly, but frankly, I’ve also seen much, much worse in that regard—more a case of characters trying to let their own personality develop and shine through, only to be put back on rails in order for the story to end up where it should. I found this too bad for them, to be honest; I suspect they would’ve been more interesting had they been able to live their own tale fully. As a result, Catherine especially ended up rather passive and unappealing, stuck between a sort of Regency-like society where noble girls marry noble men and must remain silent and pretty in their corsets, a holier-than-thou attitude (ironically mirroring Margaret’s without never realising it), and twists meant to turn her into the Queen of Hearts, yet too predictable to really hit home. The courtship period was infuriating, what’s with all her refusing the King but never telling it to his face, letting things happen, then worrying that she’ll have to marry him and not be with the man she actually loves, but still not doing anything, until it was too late and whatever she’d do would just end up badly (also it’s the others’ fault, never hers… great).

Other problems were the writing (not bad, but nothing exceptional either), and the pacing: especially in the second third, the story dragged and felt padded out—that was when I started struggling to keep on reading, before getting to the last/darker part. While the kingdom of Hearts had a ‘cutesy’ and colourful side that I quite liked, it didn’t enthrall me (Chess with its warring Queens seemed more exciting?), perhaps because half the book at least was devoted to parties and balls and a more traditional “arranged marriage” plot, instead of playing on a more Wonderland-like atmosphere.

Conclusion: Well, I expected more, and this is clearly a case of a story whose characters would have been better left to their own devices.

Yzabel / November 23, 2016

Review: Tôru – Wayfarer Returns

Toru: Wayfarer Returns (Sakura Steam Series Book 1)Toru: Wayfarer Returns by Stephanie R. Sorensen

My rating: [rating=2]

Blurb:

Revolutionary young samurai with dirigibles take on Commodore Perry and his Black Ships in this alternate history steampunk technofantasy set in 1850s samurai-era Japan.

In Japan of 1852, the peace imposed by the Tokugawa Shoguns has lasted 250 years. Peace has turned to stagnation, however, as the commoners grow impoverished and their lords restless. Swords rust. Martial values decay. Foreign barbarians circle the island nation’s closed borders like vultures, growing ever more demanding.

Tōru, a shipwrecked young fisherman rescued by American traders and taken to America, defies the Shogun’s ban on returning to Japan, determined to save his homeland from foreign invasion. Can he rouse his countrymen in time? Or will the cruel Shogun carry out his vow to execute all who set foot in Japan after traveling abroad? Armed only with his will, a few books, dirigible plans and dangerous ideas, Tōru must transform the Emperor’s realm before the Black Ships come.

Tōru: Wayfarer Returns is the first book in the Sakura Steam Series, an alternate history of the tumultuous period from the opening of Japan in 1853 to the Meiji Restoration in 1868. This volume covers the year prior to the American Commodore Perry’s arrival in Japan and follows the hero and his young allies as they lead Japan through a massively compressed industrial revolution, dramatically altering that pivotal moment in history.

While Tōru and his dirigibles are fictional, the story unfolds against the backdrop of the “real” Japan of that period, with historical figures and their political environment woven into the tale, staying true to their motivations and agendas even as the alternate history warps their actions, history and a few laws of physics. Underpinning the adventure plot is a young man’s yearning for his father’s approval and an honorable place in his world.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley.]

More an alternate history novel than a truly steampunk one, “Tôru: Wayfarer Returns” deals with late feudal Japan faced with the potential intruding of American civilisation—more specifically, the last years of the Tokugawa bakumatsu, and the arrival of Commander Perry and his “black ships”. The idea: what if, instead of feeling inferior to this technology, Japan at the time had had an industrial revolution of its own, and had been able to withstand such demonstration of power?

Enters Tôru, a young fisherman who, after being shipwrecked, was saved by Americans, and spent two years in their country before coming back to Japan with books, blueprints, and lots, lots of ideas about how to revolutionise his country for the day Westerners come to impose their trade and culture on it. Things aren’t meant to be easy for him, first and foremost because bringing western books and machinery to these lands, and sneaking in at night, are deemed traitorous acts, punishable by death. When Lord Aya catches wind of this, his first reaction is to get the traitor executed. Except that ideas are contagious, and Tôru’s more than others.

This first volume in the “Sakura Steam” series shows how a handful of daimyôs and commoners manage to find common ground to dig the foundations of Japan’s industrialisation: first in secrecy, then by ensuring the support of some of the most powerful coastal lords, to make sure that when the Shôgun hears about this (and he will), they’ll have grounds to argue their case, machines to show off, and engineers to explain how said machines will allow their country to stand strong and proud. These rebels definitely go against the stream in many ways, by also allowing commoners and women to take part in engineering trains and dirigibles. And even though some characters are (understandably, considering their upbringing) against this, they do try and see how this could change the world, and acknowledge that such “unexpected people” will do good and have a place in this new order. Not to mention that Jiro the blacksmith, or Masuyo the noble lady, are pleasant characters to see evolve, and I liked when they had parts to play; even some of the more unpleasant characters, like Lady Tômatsu, had their redeeming features.

However, while this is all very exciting, I could never really shake my suspension of disbelief, because everything happened both much too fast and sometimes too slowly as well:
– The “rebels” should logically have been discovered sooner.
– And, more importantly, building railroad tracks, engines, a fleet of dirigibles, a telegraph network, etc, in secrecy, with the (limited) means of a handful of daimyôs, in less than one year, seemed too far-fetched to be believable. Granted, they had blueprints and all; on the other hand, all those engineers had to learn from scratch, only from those blueprints not even in Japanese, translated and explained only by Tôru who isn’t even an engineer, and… Well. Really, really hard to believe. Had it been done in a few years rather than a few months, I probably would have been, paradoxically, more excited about it.
– At times the narrative devolves into explanations about the political views during the Bakumatsu, the fixed place of samurai vs. commoners—which is interesting, but was dumped in between scenes. It would have been more welcome if better intertwined with the dialogue and action, which in turn would also have left more room to the characters to fully interact, giving us a better feel for them.
– It would’ve been more interesting IMHO to see a different “industrialisation”, and not a mere “westernisation” of Japan. Something that would’ve mixed traditional/feudal ways with modern weaponry, instead of having basically one or the other.
– Minor pet peeve: Tôru’s secret, which he takes great pains to hide, but is much too obvious to the reader, almost from the beginning.

Conclusion: I wish it had been more “believable” in terms of alternate history, and had provided a different path than the expected one.

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Yzabel / November 23, 2016

Review: Haters: Harassment, Abuse, and Violence Online

Haters: Harassment, Abuse, and Violence OnlineHaters: Harassment, Abuse, and Violence Online by Bailey Poland

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

Cybersexism is rampant and can exact an astonishingly high cost. In some cases, the final result is suicide.

Bullying, stalking, and trolling are just the beginning. Extreme examples such as GamerGate get publicized, but otherwise the online abuse of women is largely underreported. Haters combines a history of online sexism with suggestions for solutions.

Using current events and the latest available research into cybersexism, Bailey Poland questions the motivations behind cybersexist activities and explores methods to reduce footprints of Internet misogyny, drawing parallels between online and offline abuse. By exploring the cases of Alyssa Funke, Rehtaeh Parsons, Audrie Pott, Zoe Quinn, Anita Sarkeesian, Brianna Wu, and others, and her personal experiences with sexism, Poland develops a compelling method of combating sexism online.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley.]

I don’t read non-fiction that often, so when I do, I always want those books to be good, to teach me something, and/or to make me think. I guess this one was all three? I pretty much “enjoyed” reading it—from an academic point of view, because let’s be honest, the problems it describes aren’t so savoury, and it’s such a shame they’re still here in 2016. Interesting, too, was how I could discuss it with a couple of friends, and they hadn’t necessarily realised either all that online harrassment involves: not just the insulting posts/tweets/interactions, but how all those get dismissed so easily, and by basically everybody and their dog, under the umbrella of “don’t feed the trolls” and “if you don’t like it, just turn off your computer”.

Because not feeding offenders doesn’t mean they’ll stop: what they want is not always attention, but the feeling that they’ve “won” by driving you away.

Because “just turn the computer off” is not a solution, especially not in our age where every potential recruiter and employer looks you up on the web, and if you don’t maintain some kind of online presence, you’re not good enough, but if what they find are blogs and profiles defaced by abusers, it’s even worse.

Because, sadly but unsurprisingly, it still all ties into the “blame the victim” culture; into victims being the ones who must waste time and make efforts to get rid of the abuse; into (yes, once again) the fact that women and minorities get a lot more abuse than ye olde middle-class white guy—and that it’s about abusers demanding that their victims waste their time on them, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

I’ve been lucky so far in terms of abuse, but I’ve lived in bad places offline and I know what it is to get cat-called by shady guys in the street, who then proceed to insult you when you don’t drop everything you’re doing to turn all your attention to them. So, yeah, when we have to contend with that shite online as well? Not good.

Sadly here as well, people who’d benefit most from reading such a book (in order to realise why it’s not okay—or that we’ve called their BS long ago and the only ones they’re fooling is themselves) won’t read it, won’t care, will probably abuse the author, whatever. Nevertheless, I think this would be food for thought for many, many other people: it’s amazing (and worrying) how easy it is to internalise that culture of abuse, to react ourselves with mild aphorisms like “just block them”, as if ignoring what’s happening will make it vanish by magic. Tiny little details that we continuously feed into our own daily narratives, poisoning ourselves, even when we’re obviously against abuse and behave in civil ways otherwise.

The author provides quite a few examples of abuse situations or larger events like the Gamergate, showing how abusers behave, and what kind of dangers this can all lead to, ranging from personal and professional issues to physical wounds and worse (revealing information like Social Security numbers and addresses, for the targets to be abused offline as well).

The one thing I found a little difficult at times was the academic style, which was dry in places, and sometimes seemed to repeat itself (possibly in attempts to keep it to a more generic kind of language, I’d say, and prevent it from immediately being labelled as “see you’re writing about abusers but you do that in an offending way”—also note the irony of, once again, having to keep ourselves in check so that the real abusers won’t be able to bounce on it). On the other hand, the book as a whole is accessible and not “hard” to read and understand.

Conclusion: Important matter, dealt with in understandable ways, and deserving of being read by a wide range of people.

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley.]

I don’t read non-fiction that often, so when I do, I always want those books to be good, to teach me something, and/or to make me think. I guess this one was all three? I pretty much “enjoyed” reading it—from an academic point of view, because let’s be honest, the problems it describes aren’t so savoury, and it’s such a shame they’re still here in 2016. Interesting, too, was how I could discuss it with a couple of friends, and they hadn’t necessarily realised either all that online harrassment involves: not just the insulting posts/tweets/interactions, but how all those get dismissed so easily, and by basically everybody and their dog, under the umbrella of “don’t feed the trolls” and “if you don’t like it, just turn off your computer”.

Because not feeding offenders doesn’t mean they’ll stop: what they want is not always attention, but the feeling that they’ve “won” by driving you away.

Because “just turn the computer off” is not a solution, especially not in our age where every potential recruiter and employer looks you up on the web, and if you don’t maintain some kind of online presence, you’re not good enough, but if what they find are blogs and profiles defaced by abusers, it’s even worse.

Because, sadly but unsurprisingly, it still all ties into the “blame the victim” culture; into victims being the ones who must waste time and make efforts to get rid of the abuse; into (yes, once again) the fact that women and minorities get a lot more abuse than ye olde middle-class white guy—and that it’s about abusers demanding that their victims waste their time on them, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

I’ve been lucky so far in terms of abuse, but I’ve lived in bad places offline and I know what it is to get cat-called by shady guys in the street, who then proceed to insult you when you don’t drop everything you’re doing to turn all your attention to them. So, yeah, when we have to contend with that shite online as well? Not good.

Sadly here as well, people who’d benefit most from reading such a book (in order to realise why it’s not okay—or that we’ve called their BS long ago and the only ones they’re fooling is themselves) won’t read it, won’t care, will probably abuse the author, whatever. Nevertheless, I think this would be food for thought for many, many other people: it’s amazing (and worrying) how easy it is to internalise that culture of abuse, to react ourselves with mild aphorisms like “just block them”, as if ignoring what’s happening will make it vanish by magic. Tiny little details that we continuously feed into our own daily narratives, poisoning ourselves, even when we’re obviously against abuse and behave in civil ways otherwise.

The author provides quite a few examples of abuse situations or larger events like the Gamergate, showing how abusers behave, and what kind of dangers this can all lead to, ranging from personal and professional issues to physical wounds and worse (revealing information like Social Security numbers and addresses, for the targets to be abused offline as well).

The one thing I found a little difficult at times was the academic style, which was dry in places, and sometimes seemed to repeat itself (possibly in attempts to keep it to a more generic kind of language, I’d say, and prevent it from immediately being labelled as “see you’re writing about abusers but you do that in an offending way”—also note the irony of, once again, having to keep ourselves in check so that the real abusers won’t be able to bounce on it). On the other hand, the book as a whole is accessible and not “hard” to read and understand.

Conclusion: Important matter, dealt with in understandable ways, and deserving of being read by a wide range of people.

Yzabel / November 19, 2016

Review: Pirate Utopia

Pirate UtopiaPirate Utopia by Bruce Sterling

My rating: [rating=4]

Blurb:

Who are these bold rebels pillaging their European neighbors in the name of revolution? The Futurists! Utopian pirate warriors of the diminutive Regency of Carnaro, scourge of the Adriatic Sea. Mortal enemies of communists, capitalists, and even fascists (to whom they are not entirely unsympathetic).

The ambitious Soldier-Citizens of Carnaro are led by a brilliant and passionate coterie of the perhaps insane. Lorenzo Secondari, World War I veteran, engineering genius, and leader of Croatian raiders. Frau Piffer, Syndicalist manufacturer of torpedos at a factory run by and for women. The Ace of Hearts, a dashing Milanese aristocrat, spymaster, and tactical savant. And the Prophet, a seductive warrior-poet who leads via free love and military ruthlessness.

Fresh off of a worldwide demonstration of their might, can the Futurists engage the aid of sinister American traitors and establish world domination?

Review:

[I received a copy of this novel through NetGalley.]

A book that, to me, was more interesting for the world it developed than for its actual plot—I’d definitely like to see this “Futurist 1920s Italia/Europe/USA” revisited and developed more, especially for what the author does with famous figures and events of that time period.

So. It is 1920 in Fiume, and this town poised between Italia and Croatia is run by pirates: anarchists and artists, writers and syndicalists, all at once, boasting ideals and beliefs in the Future, taking over factories and throwing away rich capitalists. It is 1920, and Communism has been alive and kicking for quite a while. Gabriele d’Annunzio is the Prophet (and the man who really established the Republic of Carnaro in our world, too); Harry Houdini, H. P. Lovecraft and Robert E. Howard are working as flamboyant spies for the US government; and in Berlin, a young man by the name of Adolf dies to protect another man in a bar brawl, thus never starting on the path he will be known for in our History. And he’s not the one, far from it.

I loved what Bruce Sterling did with this alternate history, dieselpunk Europe, full of contradictions: praise for the Future and strong beliefs and angular colourful clothes; rambunctious pirates proud of their ways, fascists with minds turned towards a different ideology, and engineers stealing armoured cars from the rioters who stole them first; beautiful and mysterious artist women, and a magician without fear who may or may not be human; but also factories churning torpedoes, small guns produced by the hundreds and used as currency, manifestos and propaganda, and a mounting tendency towards a new war.

A constant energy permeated the narrative, nervous and stressful in parts, ecstatic in others, and it provided for a fascinating read. There’s humour and pulp and inventions and scary ideas as well in there. There’s speed and technology and violence, carried by a youthful spirit—in one word, Futurismo—reflected in the illustrations at the beginning of each chapter. Delightful.

What I regret is that it didn’t go further. This is more a novella, and one that stops at a turning point that I would so much have wanted to see developed and explored. (In an interview, the author explains his choice, and the writer in me can totally understand it; still, the reader in me felt sad at leaving that alternate world so soon.)

Conclusion: 3.5 stars. Mr Sterling, are you going to revisit this world soon? Please.

Yzabel / November 17, 2016

Review: Homo Deus

Homo Deus: A Brief History of TomorrowHomo Deus: A Brief History of Tomorrow by Yuval Noah Harari

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

Yuval Noah Harari, author of the critically-acclaimed New York Times bestseller and international phenomenon Sapiens, returns with an equally original, compelling, and provocative book, turning his focus toward humanity’s future, and our quest to upgrade humans into gods.

Over the past century humankind has managed to do the impossible and rein in famine, plague, and war. This may seem hard to accept, but, as Harari explains in his trademark style—thorough, yet riveting—famine, plague and war have been transformed from incomprehensible and uncontrollable forces of nature into manageable challenges. For the first time ever, more people die from eating too much than from eating too little; more people die from old age than from infectious diseases; and more people commit suicide than are killed by soldiers, terrorists and criminals put together. The average American is a thousand times more likely to die from binging at McDonalds than from being blown up by Al Qaeda.

What then will replace famine, plague, and war at the top of the human agenda? As the self-made gods of planet earth, what destinies will we set ourselves, and which quests will we undertake? Homo Deus explores the projects, dreams and nightmares that will shape the twenty-first century—from overcoming death to creating artificial life. It asks the fundamental questions: Where do we go from here? And how will we protect this fragile world from our own destructive powers? This is the next stage of evolution. This is Homo Deus.

Review:

[I got a copy of this book through NetGalley.]

Interesting for the possibilities it presents, even if I’m not 100% convinced about some of the scientific explanations. On the other end, not being a specialist, I’m not discarding them either.

The writing style was very easy to follow and engaging, making it a pleasant read that I kept going back to. Some themes that could’ve been fairly dry, like recapping humanity’s history and evolution, were done so in a way that explained the essential parts without making them unpalatable.

A lot of theories in this book hinge on organisms being driven by algorithms, like machines are. Biological algorithms, that is: stimuli triggering responses that follow a set of instructions (see threat – produce adrenaline – react, that kind of instructions). Well, why not! I do enjoy my little world of believing that, because I’m a human being, I am exceptional, but if I think about it, I’m still an organic machine, with needs for fuel, and a limited self-repair ability. And so, as algorithms-based beings, there’s a fine line to thread between creating always more powerful computers, and maybe one day being driven by them, with their ability to process so much more data, and so much faster. AIs composing music or haiku, after being programmed with complex sets of algorithms to reproduce what would touch human ears and trigger emotions: something that is both fascinating (how far we’ve gone) and frightening (we’re not so unique anymore).

Following this, the book explores potential outcomes: if we end up building machines that can perform better and faster (like the Google automated car that will apply the brakes in time vs. a tired human who won’t react fast enough) , won’t we become obsolete? What can we do then, what kinds of occupations for us, and if none—can a sustainable economy grow out of this, making it sustainable for everybody, or will humans just have to go down the road of extinction?

In general, though I felt this book wasn’t going far enough in presenting those possibilities both exciting and scary (improved humans vs. free will as being only the product of our desires/algorithms). Sometimes I had the feeling I had already read something similar in a previous chapter. Somehow it seems to be better inspiration for a sci-fi novel than for actual theories about what may happen in the future?

Still, it’s food for thought. Also, from other reviews, it may be that a previous book (“Sapiens”) by this author would be more interesting, so I may be tempted to read it later.