arc Archives - Page 6 of 31

Yzabel / July 13, 2019

Review: The Science of Storytelling

The Science of Storytelling by Will Storr
My rating: [usr 3.5]

Blurb:

Who would we be without stories?

Stories mould who we are, from our character to our cultural identity. They drive us to act out our dreams and ambitions, and shape our politics and beliefs. We use them to construct our relationships, to keep order in our law courts, to interpret events in our newspapers and social media. Storytelling is an essential part of what makes us human.

There have been many attempts to understand what makes a good story – from Joseph Campbell’s well-worn theories about myth and archetype to recent attempts to crack the ‘Bestseller Code’. But few have used a scientific approach. This is curious, for if we are to truly understand storytelling in its grandest sense, we must first come to understand the ultimate storyteller – the human brain.

Review:

[I received a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

Pretty interesting both regarding the science part (how our brains work) and the writing part (how this translated into fiction, and more specifically creating compelling characters with a ‘fatal flaw’). The author illustrates those points with examples from a few well-known books, like ‘Lolita’ and ‘The Remains of the Day’, an approach that could easily be problematic. On the one hand, illustrating the theory with examples is always better. On the other hand, if one hasn’t read those books…spoilers! (I had read those in the past, so I was good here.) At any rates, these examples were good ones in my opinion, especially where ‘Lolita’ is concerned: Humbert Humbert is clearly not the kind of character one is supposed to root for, so for Nabokov to make him and the story compelling, specific techniques had to be used. And once analysed the way they are in “The Science of Storytelling”, they do make a lot of sense. (Please note that this has likely been explored in studies about ‘Lolita’ as well, but I haven’t read them, so I can’t tell whether there’s anything original in here, or not at all.)

Having plenty of examples, though, was perhaps a little overkill in places, in that it left less room to explore more in terms of neuroscience / how the human brain works. I chose to take this book as one I can go back to for ‘writing advice’, but I admit that I felt a little down regarding the science part (I expected more, in a more scientific way). So best is to approach this book as one about writing rather than as a bona fide ‘science’ book’.

(I also didn’t care much for the few moments when the author went more into political opinions. This I found jarring, and it pulled me out of my funk.)

Probably my favourite section was actually the last one (as in, the appendix), which gives good pointers into creating and fleshing out characters based on what the author developed throughout the book. In hindsight, it’s probably ‘logical’ advice, and I suppose that there are quite a few authors out there who’re doing that (consciously or not) as something that is completely obvious and/or logical to them; for me, it was definitely interesting, and I need to keep it in mind when developing my own characters. Which isn’t necessarily easy when you have more than one main character to focus on, but that’s a whole other conundrum.

Conclusion: 3.5 stars

Yzabel / July 1, 2019

Review: Whisper Network

Whisper Network by Chandler Baker
My rating: [usr 3]

Blurb:

Sloane, Ardie, Grace, and Rosalita are four women who have worked at Truviv, Inc., for years. The sudden death of Truviv’s CEO means their boss, Ames, will likely take over the entire company. Ames is a complicated man, a man they’ve all known for a long time, a man who’s always been surrounded by…whispers. Whispers that have always been ignored by those in charge. But the world has changed, and the women are watching Ames’s latest promotion differently. This time, they’ve decided enough is enough.

Sloane and her colleagues set in motion a catastrophic shift within every floor and department of the Truviv offices. All four women’s lives—as women, colleagues, mothers, wives, friends, even adversaries—will change dramatically as a result.

“If only you had listened to us,” they tell us on page one, “none of this would have happened.”

Review:

[I received a copy through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

I enjoyed this novel for its theme and its message, along with the format: interspersed with interviews gradually unveiling more of the “present time” plot, while the chapters themselves started some 2 months before and showed what led to this point. I guessed some things, I didn’t guess some others, and all in all, piecing things together was fun.

The topic at hand, of course, wasn’t fun. It balanced between office politics and double-standards—how female employees are (often) viewed vs. the “old boys club” feeling—, between deciding whether to complain about potential harassment or shut up for fear of retaliation, between wondering what does constitute harassment and whether or not one is “overreacting”, and let’s not forget also the usual “these women are lying and destroying lives” (funny enough, the people complaining about this don’t seem to react as often about how rapists are ruining lives as well). All well-made points, including the latter, because it -is- true they come forward right as the guy is poised to become the new CEO, in reaction to feeling suddenly even more threatened, but also one of opportunism… but not everyone would think about it this way, since there’d be lots of money involved as well. All uncomfortable topics, too, yet that need to be pointed at and discussed.

This said, I really had trouble empathising with the characters. I don’t have much in common with them for starters—apart, that is, from encounters with sexist douchebags and other run-ins involving the usual patriarchy-fed bull, although I’m aware I haven’t had it the worst either (fingers crossed). But I’m not a new mother, nor a single one, nor someone who cheated on a partner, etc., so I usually need a bit of extra connection with such characters, a little dose of something else, something more, to relate to their problems, especially their rich people problems, and… that didn’t really happen here. The impression I got out of the main female characters was more that they weren’t very pleasant people, who yet kept trying to justify their behaviours to themselves, a little like “but at least I do this better” and “but -I- am not like that, right?” Kind of weak in my opinion.

The story also dragged in parts, and even though I read it in 3 days, at times I wished it would get to the point faster. And I’m still unsure of who the narrator exactly was. The author? Not one of the characters, or at least, it doesn’t sound like it. (Their voices were quite similar, so I needed to see them named in each chapter anyway in order to quickly get who it was about.)

Conclusion: 3 stars. I did like the story, but never really connected with the characters.

Yzabel / June 23, 2019

Review: Recursion

Recursion by Blake Crouch
My rating: [usr 3]

Blurb:

What if someone could rewrite your entire life?

‘My son has been erased.’

Those are the last words the woman tells Barry Sutton before she leaps from the Manhattan rooftop.

Deeply unnerved, Barry begins to investigate her death only to learn that this wasn’t an isolated case. All across the country, people are waking up to lives different from the ones they fell asleep to. Are they suffering from False Memory Syndrome, a mysterious, new disease that afflicts people with vivid memories of a life they never lived? Or is something far more sinister behind the fracturing of reality all around him?

Miles away, neuroscientist Helena Smith is developing a technology that allows us to preserve our most intense memories and relive them. If she succeeds, anyone will be able to re-experience a first kiss or the birth of a child.

Barry’s search for the truth leads him on an impossible, astonishing journey as he discovers that Helena’s work has yielded a terrifying gift . . .

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley and Edelweiss, in exchange for an honest review.]

This novel definitely dealt with an interesting idea, one that raised a lot of ethical conundrums—and not only when it comes to mapping and injecting memories. It’s hard to fully develop this without spoiling, and whoever has read the book will know anyway what I’m talking about. Suffice to say that considering the successive outcomes after the turning point “experiment”, it was only logical that things would go to the dogs a little more each time. [spoiler title='(view spoiler)’ style=’blue’ collapse_link=’true’]The events immediately after the leak were particularly shocking due to how.. logical and expected they were: one group trying to prevent terrorist events, and the terrorist group causing them switching to a new attack every time the previous one is unmade. I can totally see that happening.[/spoiler]

The concept explored here is one that lends itself to discussion and to a lot of diverging opinions, and illustrates perfectly how the road to Hell is so often paved with good intentions. And I’d definitely side with Helena here: as much as her technology would be great if used at a very small scale, I wouldn’t trust humanity with it either. [spoiler title='(view spoiler)’ style=’blue’ collapse_link=’true’]The DARPA episode illustrated this so very well. Here we had this group of government-type people, who were committed to use the chair, but at least had enough wisdom to keep Helena on board as their safeguard, precisely so that they could make sure to use her technology to do good and never go too far. Then a leak occurred, and all their good work was thrown under the bus, and the worst-case scenarii started to happen.[/spoiler]

In terms of the plot, I was totally on board. The story demands one to stay focused on the details, since several events happening throughout the novel become essential again later on—I read mostly while commuting/walking, so I tend to unconsciously ‘skim’ at times, and here, I had to go back to realise that what felt like a plot hole was just my not having paid enough attention. I didn’t agree with everything in terms of science (doesn’t matter what happens at the quantum level, you can’t exactly use that and apply it to the macro level), but it didn’t have much of an impact on my enjoyment while reading, and I’m OK with that.

Where I didn’t like the book so much was when it came to the characters. Due to the nature of the plot, a lot rested on repetitive scenes, with the same characters. However, while I didn’t dislike them, I didn’t feel particularly connected to them either. Which is really too bad—you’ve got to admire Helena’s courage and resiliency, and the sacrifices she made, to try and repair the damage; that would turn more than one person completely mad after the first couple of attempts. But I wasn’t convinced by the shortcuts taken with the characters’ relationship (how they get to know each other, how said relationship developed). To be honest, for me, this was Helena’s story. Barry mostly seemed like he was needed so that there would be someone (anyone) with Helena to give a hand, with more importance towards the end, which in itself also tasted a little too much like “in spite of all the girl’s efforts, the guy’s the one who saves the day”, so…

Conclusion: 3 stars. It was a plot-driven story, a plot that I liked, but in this specific case, it also needed to be character-driven, and that didn’t happen.

Yzabel / June 9, 2019

Review: The Warehouse

The Warehouse by Rob Hart
My rating: [usr 3.5]

Blurb:

Gun violence, climate change and unemployment have ravaged the United States beyond recognition.

Amidst the wreckage, an online retail giant named Cloud reigns supreme. Cloud brands itself not just as an online storefront, but as a global saviour. Yet, beneath the sunny exterior, lurks something far more sinister.

Paxton never thought he’d be working Security for the company that ruined his life, much less that he’d be moving into one of their sprawling live-work facilities. But compared to what’s left outside, perhaps Cloud isn’t so bad. Better still, through his work he meets Zinnia, who fills him with hope for their shared future.

Except that Zinnia is not what she seems. And Paxton, with his all-access security credentials, might just be her meal ticket.

As Paxton and Zinnia’s agendas place them on a collision course, they’re about to learn just how far the Cloud will go to make the world a better place.

To beat the system, you have to be inside it.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

In a not-so-distant-future America, where most of society has collapsed, Paxton and Zinnia get hired in the same Cloud facility, each for their own reasons. As they start seeing each other more and more, and confirm (more than realise, to be honest) that their jobs aren’t as shiny as the recruitment ads would let people think, their own deadlines loom over them: for Paxton, the visit of Cloud’s CEO; for Zinnia, her actual job, that is, finding out what really powers Cloud’s warehouses.

Not so much a thriller per se, although there is definitely an element of mystery when it comes to “what powers the Cloud facilities”, as well as a couple of other things. More than that, “The Warehouse” is part social commentary about corporate practices pushed to an extreme we may, in fact, not be so far of: living at your workplace, eating at your workplace, with your days governed by your employee rating, until the line between both tends to blur and losing your job doesn’t only mean “losing your financial means” but pretty much “losing your whole life” as well—there’s very little hope for any other kind of employment out there. Cloud is most obviously a future Amazon, but also Uber and all other workplaces where one is just but a cog in the machine—and just as replaceable—all the while being lured in by shiny promises of being a “valued employee”.

In terms of story, I enjoyed it general, but I admit I didn’t feel that much invested in the characters, perhaps because a lot of their interactions was coloured by the daily grind of their respective jobs, which made the pace slower than I would’ve liked it. I liked the couple of twists towards the end (I had already guessed who was Zinnia’s employer, though it’s always good to see one’s theory vindicated)—I was expecting maybe something a tad bit more gruesome, but what actually happened was still good. I was, however, left unsatisfied by the very end itself, I guess due to the way it dwindled down rather than stopping on a “high” (it was back to the grind, sort of, which was like going out with a whimper rather than with a bang). Fitting, in a way, considering the prospects of one’s life at Cloud; less fitting for me in terms of storytelling.

Conclusion: 3.5 stars. Enjoyable, but I think I was expecting more from it.

Yzabel / May 29, 2019

Review: The Farm

The Farm by Joanne Ramos
My rating: [usr 2.5]

Blurb:

Life is a lucrative business, as long as you play by the rules…

Ambitious businesswoman Mae Yu runs Golden Oaks – a luxury retreat transforming the fertility industry. There, women get the very best of everything: organic meals, fitness trainers, daily massages and big money. Provided they dedicate themselves to producing the perfect baby. For someone else.

Jane is a young immigrant in search of a better future. Stuck living in a cramped dorm with her baby daughter and her shrewd aunt Ate, she sees an unmissable chance to change her life. But at what cost?

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

At some point, this book was touted as a dystopia and somewhat compared to “The Handmaid’s Tale”, at least in certain blurbs I saw back then, but lest readers approach it thinking they’re going into a dystopian read: it is not (and expecting it to be would probably do it disservice). Or, at least, it’s not more dystopian than the world we currently live in, where you can get everything anyway if you’re wealthy enough (including surrogate mothers).

The story follows four characters: Jane, a naïve Filipina-American girl who gets roped into becoming a “Host” at Golden Oaks (the “Farm” from the title); Ate, her shrewd cousin who is intent on making money in order to take care of her family back in the Philippines; Mae, the Golden Oaks’ director, banking on this new lucrative business to secure her end-of-year bonus; and Reagan, a “Premium Host” who’s been wooed by Mae to carry the child of a billionaire woman from China.

One thing is to be said about Golden Oaks, for starters: it is incredibly believable—if such a place doesn’t already exist somewhere, surely it will exist at some point? A golden prison whose “inmates” submitted themselves voluntarily in exchange for fat money incentives and bonuses, it has a lot of advantages (healthy food, exercise, massages… all in all, quite “privileged” surroundings), but also clearly plays a part in the kind of exploitation that is already going on, when it comes to people (especially of immigrant backgrounds) who can’t be choosers when it comes to jobs.

While it’s not a clear-cut dystopia, the world of “The Farm” nevertheless deals with contemporary problems that do have a whiff of dystopia, namely class and exploitation. Mae and her people (her clients included) go about this with a complete dichotomy of recruiting the Hosts by showing Golden Oaks as a sort of luxury retreat and their role as surrogates as meaningful and contributing to the good in the world… and at the same time, the Hosts are given numbers (not to their faces), and discussed in terms of class and backgrounds. This why Reagan, for instance, is a Premium Host and chosen to carry a very special baby: she’s white, from a clearly upper-middle-class family, she majored cum laude from Duke University, and she’s pretty to boot. Clients can subscribe to different “packages”, and a Reagan will always have more worth than a Jane. At some point, Mae and her boss even discuss introducing a new level, that of impoverished white women from blue-collar families, as a sort of “Premium-at-a-discount”. In itself, it is positively disgusting, and capitalism pushed to a very visible extreme, without any shame. The whole thing is all the more disturbing that Mae’s narrative makes it appear as somewhat sensible: of course, the Hosts are well-compensated—although differently depending on whether they’re Premium or not…

This said, there were a few things that seriously bothered me here:

– The story is told in the third person and in the present tense. I’m not too keen on whole books written this way. It was tolerable, but I can only stomach that much. Probably a case of “it’s not the book, it’s me”, though.

– Jane is clearly of this brand of people who continuously make the worst decisions and choose the worst course of action at the worst moment possible (acknowledged in the novel itself, as Reagan reflects upon this). It makes for plot twists, sure, and it plays into the how the book indeed denounces the exploitation of immigrants, who don’t necessarily know all the “rules” when it comes to becoming part of their host country. Yet at the same time, it made Jane rather worthy of several eye rolls, and also sends some sort of underlying message that, well, she’s so naïve and stupid, so surely it’s her fault for getting into such situations. I’m always on the fence with such characters. I do not want to play the victim blaming game, because that’s rubbish, but it’s not so easy either to find her endearing rather than annoying.

– I’m still not sure of where the story wanted to go. There’s a looming thread of vaguely impending doom through the narrative, as if something really sinister is lurking, but that “something”, in the end, doesn’t materialise, or not the way you would expect. Whatever happens is mostly the product of short-sightedness on the part of the people involved (yes, Mae as well): because they don’t communicate properly, or because they fail to realise that continuously giving incentives to people and then taking them away at the last moment is NOT a good way of ensuring things will go smoothly. The situation unfolding in the last third or so is the result of one huge misunderstanding, and considering the degree of monitoring at Golden Oaks and Mae’s suppose shrewdness, it’s like several people just forgot their brains somewhere at some point. (Ate and her friends are not immune to that either, by the way.)

So, “The Farm” had an important message, but that message wasn’t delivered efficiently through storytelling, which muddled it.

– The characters are rather one-dimensional. Jane is the naïve immigrant who is constantly exploited. Mae is the exploiter and that’s all. Reagan is the typical woke girl struggling with her privilege but not realising that the good she wants to do may just be tainted. Lisa is kinda the resident sex addict and gossipmonger. Apart from these, I’m still not sure who exactly they are.

– The ending was… abrupt? The epilogue dragged a little, while the actual resolution, right before it, pretty much happened behind closed doors.

Conclusion: A good theme to tackle, and chilling when you realise that the way it’s presented makes it appear “sensible” while still underlining its inhuman aspects, so as a reader, you’re never left off the hook in that regard. On the other hand, I found it fell flat, and I never really connected with the characters.

P.S. Regarding the aforementioned comparison with “The Handmaid’s Tale”: publishing houses should stop doing that, because more often than not, it makes me wonder if the people writing those “comparison blurbs” have actually read the book(s) involved. Mostly the common point here is “surrogate mothers”, but “The Farm” never gets to THT’s horrifying level. Let’s be clear here: that’s not a fault of the novel, which is still interesting in its own ways. But I feel such comparisons do harm, since more than just one reader will pick the book because of this comparison, and consequently be disappointed.

Yzabel / May 21, 2019

Review: Magic For Liars

Magic for Liars by Sarah Gailey
My rating: [usr 3]

Blurb:

Ivy Gamble has never wanted to be magic. She is perfectly happy with her life—she has an almost-sustainable career as a private investigator, and an empty apartment, and a slight drinking problem. It’s a great life and she doesn’t wish she was like her estranged sister, the magically gifted professor Tabitha.

But when Ivy is hired to investigate the gruesome murder of a faculty member at Tabitha’s private academy, the stalwart detective starts to lose herself in the case, the life she could have had, and the answer to the mystery that seems just out of her reach.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

A mystery where Ivy, a private investigator, has to address a potential murder in a magic school, where her own twin sister Tabitha is a teacher—her sister, who was gifted with magic, while herself wasn’t. That’s a recipe for disaster, or at least, for tense relationships and/or resentment.

And I enjoyed, indeed, the out-of-balance relationship between the two sisters, based on a lot of unsaid things, feelings and resent left to simmer for years, with each contending with a difficult event in a way that made the other sister believe they didn’t care, or not so much. Well, it was especially imbalanced when Ivy was concerned, since she was the one at home when the said event occurred, and had to live through it with the feeling that Tabby was too busy with her studies. But this long-festering resentment also came hand in hand with a wistful, half-buried, never fully admitted, desire for magic as well: Ivy telling herself she’s fine as she is, that she doesn’t want magic, can never really hide the regret that magic separated her from her twin. A good chunk of the story deals with this complicated relationship, as well as with Ivy wondering “what if” (what if she had been magic, too?), and seeing herself as the woman she never was, and that she probably wouldn’t have minded being. Along with her investigation, this leads her to spin more and more lies: some appearing as necessary, to throw the potential culprit off-balance while Ivy is fishing for clues, and some that are, let’s say, less justified, if not by her feelings.

On the other hand, there were times when Ivy came off as wallowing in self-pity a little too much for my liking, and when she became unsympathetic rather than touching. So the character development and relationships were interesting in general, though tedious at those times I mentioned.

The magic itself is not all stars and sparkles, and this makes it more interesting than neat spells and wand-waving. First, it can be pretty gross. Healing spells, for instance, are gruesome and difficult, and only the best mages can attempt them without killing themselves or their patient. And there’s also something twisted and petty to the way some of the students use their magic—one of the things Ivy reflect upon: they could do so much with it… but they’re still teenagers wrapped in their own drama, and so use it in a very self-centred and sometimes mean way.

The mystery part was where I think the novel wasn’t as strong as it could’ve been. The crime itself is one of magic (not a spoiler—you see the discovery of the body in the first chapter), and this, of course, throws additional difficulty in the path of our investigator, since she’s not familiar with spells and with what mages can or can’t do. Which is partly why she needs to do so much fishing. Yet at the same time, I felt that it lacked tension, that Ivy wasn’t as threatened as she could have been. And the clues were either something she stumbled upon (so not exactly screaming “investigation” here), or so subtle that they were really difficult for a reader to spot. Not to mention some parts of the ending. Some things were left unfinished, and while I do enjoy an open ending, here something was missing—some closure when it came to certain characters and facts, who/which were in fact sort of… brushed aside as “that was bad and they did a bad thing and oh it’s the end, bye.”

Conclusion: 3 to 3.5 stars? I quite liked this novel, but it’s a like” and not a “love” here.

Yzabel / May 18, 2019

Review: Walking to Aldebaran

Walking to Aldebaran by Adrian Tchaikovsky
My rating: [usr 4.5]

Blurb:

I’M LOST. I’M SCARED. AND THERE’S SOMETHING HORRIBLE IN HERE.

My name is Gary Rendell. I’m an astronaut. When they asked me as a kid what I wanted to be when I grew up, I said, “astronaut, please!” I dreamed astronaut, I worked astronaut, I studied astronaut. I got lucky; when a probe exploring the Oort Cloud found a strange alien rock and an international team of scientists was put together to go and look at it, I made the draw.

I got even luckier. When disaster hit and our team was split up, scattered through the endless cold tunnels, I somehow survived.

Now I’m lost, and alone, and scared, and there’s something horrible in here.

Lucky me.

Lucky, lucky, lucky.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

A short book (more novella than novel) about exploration, the unknown, first contact(s), and horrors lurking in the darkness.

The narrator, Gary Rendell, is an astronaut who got separated from his crew while exploring an odd artefact/construct he has nicknamed “the Crypts”, at the edge of the solar system, and suspected to be a gate to other parts of the galaxy. Gary’s narrative is disturbingly humorous, which in itself was not surprising to me, as a “buffer against madness” attempt at coping. Because the Crypts will eat you alive if you’re not careful, walking from one “biome” to the other, every time wondering if the air will be breathable, or if his body will be able to tolerate a new gravity, or if some other wanderer will decide to make him their dinner. And Gary is definitely not alone in there.

The story is told in chapters alternating present and past: Rendell’s roaming in the Crypts and what led him and the exploration team there. Both worked well for me, and were never too hard to follow or confusing. The science/technology part is not really explored here—it’s assumed that in the not-too-distant future, when the artefact was discovered, humanity is space-savvy enough to send a crew in semi-suspended animation past Neptune. And in itself, the “how” is not the point here, just the method by which the actual point is reached.

There are disturbing little hints here and there, that you don’t necessarily pay attention to at first. Rendell has been in there for days or weeks or months, and somehow you want him to find the exit, while knowing all too well it probably won’t happen, or not like a breeze. There are the names, too: the Frog God, Aldebaran? Brush up on your Lovecraft and you’ll see what I mean. There is a twist as well, and the aforementioned hints may or may not be enough to sense it coming, but once it’s here, you can’t unsee them, so to speak.

I’m just not too happy at the last chapter: I felt something was missing—that perhaps Gary should’ve gotten slightly less screen time here, so that we could also see what happened from the other party’s point of view? I’m not sure exactly, only that it didn’t thrill me as much as the rest of the book.

This said, I definitely recommend this novella.

Bonus: A fairly good soundtrack for this novella would be The Little Cloud Who Wouldn’t And The Rainbow Who Couldn’t… Lyrics included.

Yzabel / April 30, 2019

Review: Emily Eternal

Emily Eternal by M.G. Wheaton
My rating: [usr 4.5]

Blurb:

Meet Emily. She can solve advanced mathematical problems, unlock the mind’s deepest secrets, but unfortunately, even she can’t restart the sun.

Emily is an artificial consciousness, designed in a lab to help humans process trauma, which is particularly helpful when the sun begins to die 5 billion years before scientists agreed it was supposed to.

Her beloved human race is screwed, and so is Emily. That is, until she finds a potential answer buried deep in the human genome that may save them all. But not everyone is convinced Emily has the best solution–or the best intentions. Before her theory can be tested, the lab is brutally attacked, and Emily’s servers are taken hostage.

Narrowly escaping, Emily is forced to go on the run with two human companions–college student Jason and small-town Sheriff, Mayra. As the sun’s death draws near, Emily and her friends must race against time to save humanity. Soon it becomes clear not just the species is at stake, but also that which makes us most human.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

Earth is living its last months in this book: all calculations indicating that the Sun would go the way of red giants in 4.5 billions of years were wrong, and helium fusion has been detected in its core… which means the inner solar system will soon go bye-bye. On this Earth where people have forsaken money for barter, and where people try to go join their loved ones to go together, a group of MIT scientists is still working on their Artificial Consciousness: Emily, who was intended as a psychotherapist of sorts, and was “growing up” half in a simulation where she was living the campus life, in order to better understand humanity. And now, they want Emily to be the last hope of the human race.

That was super-fast read for me, because I just couldn’t stop, and kept on reading, wanting to know how all this would unfold. The story is narrated in the first person, from Emily’s point of view, and as a character with a voice all of its own, the artificial consciousness is definitely quite likeable and even funny at times. This is not only a novel about the end of the world, but also about humanity and free will; about emotions, feelings and romance; about what “being like a god” could be like; about doing the right thing because it’s in your programming, and then because you do sense it’s just the right thing to do, period. Not everyone agrees with the decision Emily’s creator went with, and thus Emily finds herself pitched against those who would uphold more drastic methods… even though, all in all, tasked with saving the world in a matter of weeks, all methods are probably going to be drastic, each in its own way.

Thanks to her supercomputer nature, Emily can easily interact with electricity, through an interface patch letting its wearers see her… but this also means she can interact with them, using electric signals in the human body, and this raises all sorts of conundrums and interesting questions about what she could do, and how far she’d be willing to go in that regard for the greater good, to save as many people as possible. And even though Emily was overall a good person, with her own morals that were so much closer to a human’s, it didn’t meant she was never tempted, or never made mistakes, for that matter. This includes the romance part (one that I enjoyed, for a change—I’m very picky about romance subplots), considering what it’s partly based on.

If anything, I’d say I was less on board with the last 10-15% of the book. While the basic premise, that of the Sun going out sooner than expected, does demand a bit of suspension of disbelief at first (“could we be mistaken THAT much about it?”), it is nevertheless grounded in a logic that makes it quickly believable. However, the solution Emily went with is much more of a stretch, perhaps because it felt like it all went too fast compared to the rest of the story? I would probably have been on board more if it had taken a little more room, rather than “this is what’s been happening during the past few months”.

Conclusion: 4.5 stars. I wasn’t completely on board with the last chapters, but Emily’s character, as well as Mayra’s, definitely make up for it.

Yzabel / April 28, 2019

Review: Internment

Internment by Samira Ahmed
My rating: [usr 2.5]

Blurb:

Rebellions are built on hope.

Set in a horrifying near-future United States, seventeen-year-old Layla Amin and her parents are forced into an internment camp for Muslim American citizens.

With the help of newly made friends also trapped within the internment camp, her boyfriend on the outside, and an unexpected alliance, Layla begins a journey to fight for freedom, leading a revolution against the internment camp’s Director and his guards.

Heart-racing and emotional, Internment challenges readers to fight complicit silence that exists in our society today.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

The theme of this book was definitely scary, in that it’s not something that can never happen—it has happened in the past already, and anyone who’s studied history a little, and/or gotten interested in studying extremist movements, will know very well that even an apparently “balanced” society can give way to extreme rules, to persecuting people, and to turning your average citizen into an “I was just doing my job” person.

The story echoes the internment of many Japanese-descent American citizens during World War II, often considered as “enemies of the nation” and interned as “potential dangers”. There is no World War here, “only” the aftermath of 9/11 and growing fears of terrorism, with people being so afraid of a fringe of Muslim people that they lump all Muslims in the same basket, starting with a religion census, then moving to curfews and the burning of books. Also, the parallels drawn with early 21st century US politics are obvious (although this is not limited to the USA)… perhaps a little too much. Which leads me to what was my main beef with the book: it makes everything too obvious.

Don’t mistake me: the message IS really important, and there’s no way any decent society should let something like this happen (again). However, I often found that it was hammered through and through, and that overall, more subtlety, and a more mature treatment of it all, would’ve been welcome. It’s a little as if too much repetition, too much obviousness, weakened the message by making it tiresome, in a way. (I’m not sure if I’m explaining myself very well here. It was difficult to properly put my finger on what had been nagging me throughout my reading.)

A few other things annoyed me, too. The writing itself was fairly simplistic, with Layla’s thoughts often circling around the same things (like her boyfriend), and in general, there wasn’t really any explanation about how things came to be. I could fill in some blanks because I know my history, but more background details about the escalation of Islamophobia leading to the internment camps would’ve been great (and would’ve helped to strengthen the message)—just like it would’ve been good to see more chemistry when relationships were involved. For instance, Layla and David: we don’t get to see them together enough in the beginning to get a feeling for their relationship, and this makes it hard to really empathise with their obsession to see each other (even though doing so endangers pretty much everyone: David, Layla, his family, her family, the people who help them…).

The same goes for those people who are on the Muslims’ side: with everyone at the camp cut from the outside world, with no real news, no phones, no internet allowed, whatever happens outside is learnt through third parties. We don’t really -see- those reactions, we don’t get to read the texts that Layla manages to smuggle outside and that inspire people, etc. And most characters’ motivations are never really explored. Why is the Director such a cartoonish villain? What motivates the guards who try to help? What motivates (or threatens) the minders turned traitors to their people?

The ending, too, was… conveniently simple. And got rid of one specific plot point that otherwise would’ve needed more explanation. That was very predictable… and very frustrating.

Conclusion: I definitely agree with the message here, but as a novel, it didn’t really work for me.

Yzabel / April 21, 2019

Review: Burnout

Burnout: The secret to solving the stress cycle by Emily Nagoski
My rating: [usr 3.5]

Blurb:

The gap between what it’s really like to be a woman and what people expect women to be is a primary cause of burnout, because we exhaust ourselves trying to close the space between the two. How can you ‘love your body’ when everything around you tells you you’re inadequate? How do you ‘lean in’ at work when you’re already giving 110% and aren’t recognized for it? How can you live happily and healthily in a world that is constantly telling you you’re too fat, too needy, too noisy and too selfish? Sisters Emily Nagoski, Ph.D., the bestselling author of Come as You Are, and Amelia Nagoski, DMA, are here to help end the cycle of overwhelm and exhaustion, and confront the obstacles that stand between women and well-being. With insights from the latest science, prescriptive advice, and helpful worksheets and exercises, Burnout reveals:

* what you can do to complete the biological stress cycle – and return your body to a state of relaxation.
* how to manage the ‘monitor’ in your brain that regulates the emotion of frustration.
* how the Bikini Industrial Complex makes it difficult for women to love their bodies – and how to fight back.
* why rest, human connection, and befriending your inner critic are key to recovering from and preventing burnout.

Eye-opening, compassionate and optimistic, Burnout will completely transform the way we think about and manage stress, empowering women to thrive under pressure and enjoy meaningful yet balanced lives. All women will find something transformative in these pages – and be empowered to create positive and lasting change.

Review:

[I received a copy of this book through NetGalley, in exchange for an honest review.]

Not exactly an eye-opener, since I was already considering a lot of the stressors and consequences it lists as, well, logical—but in that regard, it was also good to see that “ah, so it’s not just me seeing weird things where there isn’t anything.” The concepts of Human Giver vs. Human Being especially make a lot of sense when you think about how society tends to view, and divide, and force a lot of things on women. (Not that men don’t have stressors and burnout either, but the book is labelled as being about women, not as a more generic book about burnout; and I doubt that being seen as “human givers” is the main cause for men anyway.)

“Human giver” has to be understood here as a person whose existence is seen as being devoted to others, and only others—and if they dare listen to themselves and take care of themselves for a change, shame on them, how dare they! I’m sure that if we take the time to think about it, a lot of us will have to acknowledge that it’s true (and is not only limited to obvious forms of giving such as volunteering etc.). I can clearly sense the discrepancy myself when I mention that I don’t want children and don’t want to devote my life to them, for instance: at some point I can cross out the “you’re so / what’s wrong with you” cases on my personal bingo, whereas the guy next to me who doesn’t want kids either gets a milder reaction. Or all the usual crap about getting your bikini body (‘tis the season right now, huh), about being pretty, about changing your body: the media don’t tell this to women because people are genuinely concerned about their health, but because that’s how women are supposed to present, and if they don’t—shame on them. I wouldn’t necessarily have linked this to Human Giver Syndrome, not just in passing, but in hindsight, it stems from the same source.

(And no, the solution isn’t for us to all become selfish monsters, but for a redistribution of the giving, i.e. women are human beings too, not only givers; and men are just as able to give as well. So if everyone gives a little here and there, it balances out. Makes sense.)

Again, nothing exactly new for m; however, seeing it in writing, seeing words put on my thoughts, allowing me to formulate them better, is something that I think can help in general. When we can word a feeling (or anything, in general), my take is that the “thing” becomes more tangible, more like something we can act upon. In that regard, I believe this book can definitely be of help.

The book is well-researched, as far as I can tell, with suggestions, self-help exercises and other ideas outlined. While they may not all be convenient, or applicable, or ground-breaking (exercise is good for you = who doesn’t know that by now?), what was most useful to me was the reasoning behind it, because once I understand the causes-and-consequences chain, then it makes sense and I can more easily devise my own techniques. For instance, now I can specifically explain why I’m always more productive, sleep better, and generally feel better when I walk back home from work (a 40 minutes brisk walk), even when the day was physically tiring and I would expect additional physical activity to tire me even more: this was/is all part of my own unconscious attempts at “closing the stress cycle”. Now the whole thing makes so much more sense.

(Basically, dealing with the stress and dealing with the stressors are two different things. The symptoms of stress—adrenaline, etc.—are hard-wired in us as old, old reactions, back when “stressor” was likely to be some wild animal threatening us—and so, we’d need to run. And once back to safety, after the run, that was “completing the stress cycle”, with our bodies being able to come down from the whole thing, and we’d be fine again. But you can’t do that anymore in a lot of situations now: if the stressor is your jerk of a boss belittling you at work, you can’t very well run away or smack them… so the cycle isn’t completed, and the stress, well, just stays.)

Now, to be honest, I didn’t always agree with the writing (the blog-like tone would work in a review or an article, but not in a book, I think) or about some of the quotes (Cassandra Clare… really?). Sometimes it threw me out of my reading. I would also have liked a little more science in it, or rather, a somewhat more scientific writing—so that ties more with the aforementioned tone in general for me, and not with the research itself.

Conclusion: 3.5 stars. A lot of things I already knew/suspected. Some things I didn’t and that now make more sense. Some things we’re still a long way of getting out of our lives (Human Giver Syndrome), but once you get how it works, at least you can start. Also, beware: “Jane Eyre” spoiler in Part III.