UK Archives - The Y Logs

Yzabel / December 15, 2019

Review: Equal: A Story of Women, Men and Money

Equal: A Story of Women, Men and Money by Carrie Gracie
My rating: ★★★★☆

Blurb:

Equal pay has been the law for half a century. But women often get paid less than men, even when they’re doing equal work.

Mostly they don’t know because pay is secret. But what if a woman finds out? What should she do? What should her male colleague do? What should the boss do?

Equal is the inside story of how award-winning journalist Carrie Gracie challenged unequal pay at the BBC, alongside a wider investigation into why men and women are still paid unequally. It’s a book that will open your eyes, fix your resolve and give you the tools to act – and act now.

Review:

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

A very interesting book in many ways, that also takes into account difficulties experienced by more women than just the author herself.

Carrie Gracie is/was obviously in what I’m going to call a “position of power” when this happened to her—in spite of not having equal pay, she still had very high pay (the kind of pay a high majority of people don’t and will never relate to), and in itself, this probably doesn’t invite readers in general to, well, relate (a.k.a “cry me a river, at least you’re not on a zero-hour contract). And I agree that this may easily lead readers, myself included, to see such reads as indeed interesting, but also too far away from most people’s daily reality.

This said, Gracie acknowledged this, and also definitely have a point when she states that, because of her advantages here, she was in a position to raise a dint about pay inequality problems, where women in more precarious jobs, earning much less and unable to get any kind of legal counsel (not to mention representation), wouldn’t have any other choice than either shut up or get fired, and probably end up in very dire straits. And -that- is without a doubt part of the problem: there’s still (too) much pressure applied on women, in too many places, when they don’t have the resources to push back, when even finding information about how to start pushing back is not easily available. If the ones who have enough resources to push back don’t do it, who is left?

After the list of the highest paid BBC employees was made public, Gracie wasn’t the only one who had concerns and was not just a little annoyed at what it revealed. Very interesting were the various “arguments” raised to justify why, as China editor, she didn’t earn as much as the (male) USA editor, such as suddenly mentioning that she was “in development” (after 3 years on the job?) when that had never been raised before. I don’t know how good (or not) she was at the job, but this should definitely not come out of the blue, “what a coincidence”, just after one demands equal pay. In the same way, sure, a company can justify higher salaries being paid to men because they’re more senior in their jobs—but that also begs the question, how come that, “what a coincidence”, those senior roles are still so often offered to (white) men? Obviously, when things are skewed in such a way, then yes, sure, “these salaries are higher.”

It was good to see, too, that many other women at the BBC took part in pushing back. Not all of them had the same resources as Gracie, but they worked together nonetheless to get things to progress. The book clearly acknowledges this, and also delves a little deeper into examples of what can happen in a workplace that tries to hide its pay inequality, how to recognise the signs, how to start the process to fight against it (for instance, the BBC didn’t want Gracie’s statements to be recorded, which led to many times rewritten transcripts—and a lot of wasted time—so this is something to keep in mind). Other examples highlight what men can do to help as well, all the more when they’re themselves in high positions, with high pay, but not only: anyone, at any level, can be an ally. Same for employers.

I’m not always sure about all the figures cited—I admit I didn’t cross-check absolutely everything, and sometimes it’s not always clear what exactly was taken into account (all jobs in a company, regardless of what they are? Or all jobs at the same level in a company?). The advice mentioned is also specific to the UK, so I’m not sure how useful it is for other countries. But at least it provides a basis, which is a good thing.

Yzabel / November 30, 2019

Review: Body Tourists

Body Tourists by Jane Rogers
My rating: ★★☆☆☆

Blurb:

In this version of London, there is a small, private clinic. Behind its layers of security, procedures are taking place on poor, robust teenagers from northern Estates in exchange for thousands of pounds – procedures that will bring the wealthy dead back to life in these young supple bodies for fourteen days.

It’s an opportunity for wrongs to be righted, for fathers to meet grandsons, for scientists to see their work completed. Old wine in new bottles.

But at what cost?

Review:

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

Interesting theme here: dead, wealthy people being brought to life for a couple of weeks in the bodies of fit, but poor youth for whom this is the only hope of making some kind of money.

There’s a lot to be said here in terms of morals and ethics, some on the religious front, and some not. In itself, this is ground for deeper discussion, from the value of money vs. one’s body to whether a human being suddenly “reanimated” in a younger body can be trusted with it or will just do whatever, and not care about their “host”, since they go back to being dead after that anyway. One could even argue that the rich are robbing (shall I say “once again”?) other people of something precious, in this case their time and their youth, and potentially more (this is a bit spoiler-ish, but it happens early enough in the novel anyway). Especially since, in the novel’s near future, the discrepancy between the haves and the have-nots has grown even bigger, with “estates” now being entire towns from which their inhabitants just never escape.

The story explores several of these “body tourists”, from different points of view. There’s Octavia, one of the tourists herself; Luke, the scientist in charge of the project; Paula, a host who then has to go back to her life and the aftermath of this experiment; Rick, who wants to bring back his father; and Elsa, a woman whose partner died after a particularly harrowing event in their lives, leaving so much unsaid. Each narrative highlights a different take on the matter when it comes to reflecting on the whole body swapping angle—whether it’s a valid option, or should be banned altogether, or could work but only within a specific framework.

That said, I had a hard time getting into the story itself, in that these narratives don’t seamlessly join each other. Most of the time, I got the feeling that I was reading a collection of short stories forcefully brought together, rather than a complete story. (And for what it’s worth, perhaps it’s actually how it started, before being turned into a novel.) It doesn’t detract from the philosophical aspect, the concept of body tourism itself, but in terms of storytelling, it was jarring in several places, and because of this, a few parts of the various characters’ stories were also glossed over, when they could’ve been interesting to explore as well.

Conclusion: 2.5 stars. I liked the theme, but the story itself fell flat for me.

Yzabel / August 30, 2019

Review: Gone

Gone by Leona Deakin
My rating: 3/5

Blurb:

YOUR GIFT IS THE GAME.
DARE TO PLAY?

The police aren’t worried – it’s just a game. But the families are frantic. As psychologist and private detective Dr Augusta Bloom delves into the lives of the missing people, she finds something that binds them all.

And that something makes them very dangerous indeed.

As more disappearances are reported and new birthday cards uncovered, Dr Bloom races to unravel the mystery and find the missing people.

Review:

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

This mystery/thriller deal with psychologist Augusta Bloom and her partner Marcus Jameson, as both start investigating (first for personal reasons) the disappearances of four people, all after receiving a mysterious card on their birthday. A lot of the investigation rests on psychology rather than on typical clue analysis by the police, in that there are very few physical clues, and so Augusta tries to find out more by relying on what psychological profiling can tell her. Which in itself was pretty interesting, all the more after she develops her theory about who/what exactly the vanished people are.

The novel also makes use of contemporary internet, both when it comes to its strong points and to its weakness: one of the involved policemen goes to the deep web to look for clues, for instance, but it’s also clear that relying on social media to glean information is definitely a double-edged sword, since it allows other people (shady characters included) to get to know you.

Then there’s the setting—I always enjoy being able to relate to the places in a story, so with part of the action set in London (and the UK in general), that was good for me. And it was good, too, to see the investigation progress with both the ‘private eyes’ and the police working hand in hand, rather than have one try to hide information from the other.

It was a good story in general, but I admit I sometimes had trouble with the pace (in places, it was just a tad bit too slow) and with really connecting with the main characters. For reasons I won’t detail because Spoilers, Augusta was fairly aloof and emotionally remote, so it was difficult to empathise with her. I found Marcus, in spite of his past as an ex-MI6 agent, was too quick to trust certain people, which jarred with what I had expected of him. Finally, the ending was slightly too rushed, and too open as well—but then, I took this book as a standalone, so I guess that if it turns out not to be, then said open ending will not be a problem.

Yzabel / August 8, 2019

Review: Tangle’s Game

Tangle’s Game by Stewart Hotston
My rating: [usr 2.5]

Blurb:

Tense tech-thriller based on the growing role of blockchains, encryption and social media in society.

Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

Yesterday, Amanda Back’s life was flawless: the perfect social credit score, the perfect job, the perfect home.

Today, Amanda is a target, an enemy of the system holding information dangerous enough to disrupt the world’s all-consuming tech – a fugitive on the run.

But in a world where an un-hackable blockchain links everyone and everything, there is nowhere to run…

Review:

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

A techno-thriller with interesting AI-related themes, although in the end, I wasn’t awed by the story.

Set in a somewhat near future where transactions are handled through blockchain-based contracts and people’s quality of life is dependent on their social credit score as well as on their financial credit score, “Tangle’s Game” tells the story of Amanda Back, a successful investment banker who finally got a complete grip back on her life after an ex-boyfriend stole her money and left her betrayed. Flying back to London, and after an invasive search episode at the airport, she comes home only to realise that said boyfriend has involved her in a dangerous game where a mysterious USB stick and the information it contains is key. The only problem? Amanda isn’t a hacker, or a conspiracy theorist, or a whistleblower, and is probably the last person with the proper connections to do something with said information.

The premise really hooked me in, and I quickly wanted to know more about how this would all unfurl: who were the enemies, how would they try to get the info, what was Tangle’s exact part in that, who could be Amanda’s allies… Most of all, I was interested in Tatsu, the little AI contracted to help her decrypt the contents of the USB stick. I always have a soft spot for AIs, and Tatsu was definitely endearing.

By contrast, though, I never really warmed up to the human characters. Mostly they were “unlikeable” as people (Amanda is pretty much self-centered, Tangle is no better and probably somewhere on the sociopathic ladder…), but that in itself is not a deal-breaker for me—they can be the most rotten pieces of crap in the world, I can still find them likeable as characters, provided the execution goes this way. It wasn’t much the case here, in part because these characters as a whole made problematic decision after problematic decision, in a way that made me keep wondering how on Earth they were still alive. (I’ve been a tabletop RPG player for over 20 years. Trust my experience when I say that “’eceiving mysterious information and just hanging about in one’s own flat—where everybody know they can find you—while trying to come up with ideas about what to do” is a sure way of being assaulted at night by men in black or other unsavoury characters.) I was actually glad when one of the bad guys finally called them on their ability to come up with plans that may work in movies, but never in real life. And that was worth for pretty much the whole cast, not only Amanda, who at least I would’ve expected to be the most clueless.

The last 20% picked up, and with Tatsu still involved by that point, that made me want to read until the end at any rate. The ending itself is fairly open, and leaves much unresolved, but in a way, it also makes much sense: things got mired, then exploded, and now the world’s in turmoil… and the fragile situation at the end, teetering between hope and potential catastrophe, fits that pattern.

Conclusion: 2.5 stars. Mostly I didn’t care much about the human characters, and there were a few plot holes that annoyed me, but I did enjoy the part played by the AI, and the way Amanda (and Tangle, too, after all) considered it.

Yzabel / April 3, 2018

Review: [Preview of] Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race

Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race by Reni Eddo-Lodge

Blurb:

In 2014, award-winning journalist Reni Eddo-Lodge wrote about her frustration with the way that discussions of race and racism in Britain were being led by those who weren’t affected by it. She posted a piece on her blog, entitled: ‘Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race’.

Her words hit a nerve. The post went viral and comments flooded in from others desperate to speak up about their own experiences. Galvanised by this clear hunger for open discussion, she decided to dig into the source of these feelings.

Exploring issues from eradicated black history to the political purpose of white dominance, whitewashed feminism to the inextricable link between class and race, Reni Eddo-Lodge offers a timely and essential new framework for how to see, acknowledge and counter racism. It is a searing, illuminating, absolutely necessary exploration of what it is to be a person of colour in Britain today.

Review:

[I received a preview of this book through Netgalley. For this reason, I’m not going to rate this book, considering only the preface and first chapter were contained in the preview, and my review is going to be just about that as well. I’ll have to pick up the complete book at some point later.]

This said, I must admit I wouldn’t have requested it if I had noticed sooner it was a preview: I much prefer reading & reviewing full books. Oh, well.

I get the voluntarily provoking title, which is loaded in itself, but I guess that’s a good way of testing oneself and see if we want to read further. Examples given in the first chapter didn’t surprise me either, much unfortunately.

Obviously, being ‘white’, I can’t relate directly, however, for some of the examples, well, just replace ‘white’ and ‘black’ by ‘men’ and ‘women’, and you get pretty much a similar effect. (Yes, I know, ‘not all men…’, just like ‘not all whites…’, but as usual with that kind argument: it’s not the point.) I’m thinking here of the preface more specifically: “You can see their eyes shut down and harden. It’s like treacle is poured into their ears, blocking up their ear canals. It’s like they can no longer hear us.” Or “They’ve never had to think about what it means, in power terms, to be white, so any time they’re vaguely reminded of this fact, they interpret it as an affront. Their eyes glaze over in boredom or widen in indignation. Their mouths start twitching as they get defensive. Their throats open up as they try to interrupt, itching to talk over you but not really listen, because they need to let you know that you’ve got it wrong.” In other words, I can’t fully relate, but pushing myself to imagine what it must be like isn’t a big stretch; I got into similar conversations with patronising people who thought they were right because they had a penis instead of a vagina (hint: they weren’t).

Anyway.

Now, where I believe I can’t judge without having read it all, is because, for the moment, I can’t exactly tell in which direction the book is going. Is the title misleading, and the author does actually want dialogue? Or is it exactly what it says on the tin, and veering into ‘reverse racism’? (Note that as far as I’m concerned, racism is universal and goes every way and from any colour to anywards any colour, and it sucks, and I wish the human species as a whole would finally grow up, but then I suppose I’d also like to get a sports car and a penthouse in the City for my birthday, and it just won’t happen.)

So, yep… To be read fully later.

Yzabel / August 4, 2015

Review: What Milo Saw

What Milo Saw by Virginia Macgregor

My rating: [rating=3]

Blurb:

9-year-old Milo suffers from retinitis pigmentosa: his eyes are slowly failing, and he will eventually go blind. But for now, he sees the world through a pin hole and notices things other people don’t. When Milo’s beloved 92-year-old gran succumbs to dementia and moves into a nursing home, Milo begins to notice things amiss at the home. The grown-ups won’t listen when he tries to tell them something’s wrong so with just Tripi, the nursing home’s cook, and Hamlet, his pet pig, to help, Milo sets out on a mission to expose the nursing home and the sinister Nurse Thornhill.

Review:

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

Here’s a novel that can pretty much be read by everyone: although the style and narrative may be a tad bit simple for adults, they also ensure that younger readers could enjoy it as well.

The story focuses on characters from a torn family: not only Milo, but also his mother Sandy, great-grandmother Lou, and a few others, like Tripi, the cook at the nursing home where Lou is sent in the first chapters. Each of these people have their own story to tell, their own little personal tragedies, some seemingly bigger (Tripi not knowing if his sister’s still alive in Syria), others more remote though not less important (Lou still mourning the loss of her beloved decades after the war that killed him). In the middle of all this, Milo tries to understand what’s happening, tries to look at a world of adults without knowing who and what he can trust, and has to balance his condition with

The issues the novel deals with are both hard and touching, all in black and white (as seen by a child) yet at the same time not as set in stone as one would think. It worked in some parts for me, and not in others, because at times they were just a bit too naive and cliché (the evil nurse, the bad absent dad who left his family for a younger wife, the nursing home that is necessarily going to be a horrible place…): befitting Milo’s point of view, less befitting the adult character’s. Nevertheless, this echoed the theme of Milo’s physical vision: revealing details other people didn’t (want to) notice while remaining, well, narrowed down as well. In that, I thought the book did a good job.

Milo’s condition was a bit of a let-down, in my opinion, because it didn’t play that much of a role. His story, all in all, could’ve been that of any 9-year old child going through his parents’ divorce, seeing his grandma being taken away, failing at school due to all the problems on his mind, and generally not getting the adults around him. I’m not sure what I expected, but I thought it would be more important, and play a bigger part (not only the one in the ending).

I don’t think it’s an earth-shattering piece of work, and it has a lot of predictable sides, but it’s definitely a feel-good one, with a mostly happy ending and everyone’s lives neatly tying together. Nobody’s left behind, not Al, not the old people at the nursing home, whose first names we don’t get to know, not even Milo’s dad. I’d recommend this story if one wants to read about hope at the end of the tunnel, in spite of the sad themes, although I wouldn’t go with the hype either.

3 to 3.5 stars.