Calum

It's not often that I read a book and can honestly say it changed my outlook on life, but The Blank Slate is definitely one of them (trite, I know). In the book, Steven Pinker analyzes the current concepts of human nature, of culture and heritability, and reveals why in both popular and intellectual circles the prevailing viewpoints are flawed, and indeed detrimental to both research and society.

Brief summary:
The first section of the book introduces Pinker's three fallacies, which contribute to our misunderstanding of human nature. These are the Blank Slate, the tabula rasa, which considers each human being to be a moldable clay at birth, intrinsically shaped by their environment and culture.

I laughed. I cried. I thought I was getting a nice descriptive family history of life in the Salinas Valley. I actually got an incredible allegorical generational story, one that shows people at their best and worst. I learned about expectation, about choice, about what we are given and what we have to take. I don't know how it is that [b:East of Eden 4406 East of Eden John Steinbeck https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1441547516s/4406.jpg 2574991]'s characters can be sometimes so obviously playing out their type, their assigned role, and yet they feel directly and deeply the things that I have or hope to feel in not so many words. They're fictional, but their lives are universal.10/10 would recommend.

Sequel to Ender's Game, set three thousand years after its end. Ender is now a Speaker for the Dead, recounting the lives, motives, thoughts and actions of those he is called to speak.

Orson Scott Card wrote Ender's Game almost as an introduction to this book. Although it did not recieve as much recognition, it deals with many more complex issues - especially the treatment of strangers through Demosthenes' groupings of utlanning, framling, ramen and varelse. Much of the story focuses on recognising that the species known as piggies are ramen, the stranger that is human but not homo sapiens, rather than varelse, like the animals. Brings up ideas of how we judge others that we don't know. Neither the Xenocide nor minimal intervention is the right way.

Other characters include Novinha, a xenobiologist, and her children in the colony. They tell us something of fear and guilt, and the way that different people deal with different issues (Ender's speaking is masterful in its comprehension of the events, as well as the audience reaction.)

Enjoyable also due to the concepts of scifi technology introduced. The ansibles enable instantaneous communication, but the ideas behind starflight, protection, genetic engineering, and the unique biology of Lusitania are ideas worth revisiting.

Definitely looking forward to Xenocide, the next book.

Only actually read The Death of Ivan Ilyich here: the other stories will have to wait. Nevertheless, my first taste of Tolstoy and I can see why he is acclaimed: he writes with an intensity and purpose that brings out the struggles of Ivan Ilyich as he dies. Particularly compelling was the idea that we lie to ourselves about hope and the inevitability of death, and when this is gone you can only suffer. More thoughts to come, but perhaps I will attempt other Tolstoy at a suitable opportunity.

There are a lot of naysayers here, but I really liked this book. It's a thriller novel with suitably short chapters about the problems of an aircraft company, Norton, as it tries to deal with the media, business partners, engineering problems, the mysterious provenance of an accident, and many others. It doesn't sound immediately enticing, but I enjoyed this book more than Sphere - it felt somehow more tangible and the characters more convincing.

This was not actually my first read, but the last time was sufficiently long ago that I couldn't remember any plot details. The story is largely presented from the viewpoints of two characters - Casey Singleton, a press officer for Norton tasked along with others with finding out what happened on a flight incident which left many passengers injured and a few killed, and Jennifer Malone, reporter for Newsline, looking to tear apart Norton for a 15 minute story. Events unfold and Crichton is able to push his message that the media is getting too powerful, while maintaining tension and keeping me awake (I read this in one sitting!)

For once, I'm recording my impression immediately after finishing a book. The reason is that basically the end of the book left me with a surprising amount of energy and desire for action. I'm sitting here questioning how much I should believe that, but it's hard not get caught up in Conroy's characters' feelings. Leo's triumph and nice, novelistic ending is not one that I necessarily think I can achieve, but it still manages to leave me feeling good. I'd say this is typical of the book as a whole, where an entire cast of characters appears and moves around in a way that - while not predictable exactly - lends itself to feeling like it's on rails, with just a hint too much deus ex. I don't feel that seriously harms the novel though for me; I take it with an understanding of suspension of disbelief and the enjoyment is conscious rather than consuming.

Continues on from where Mistborn: The Final Empire left off. Elend and Vin are left to deal with the aftermath of their defeat of the Lord Ruler, dealing both with internal politics in Luthadel and besieging armies.

Sanderson introduces more information about the Feruchemical powers that Sazed had. We learn more about the way that the power differs from Allomancy, as well as Vin's experiments with new Allomantic metals. Fighting and movement are as fluid as ever; the novel concept of Pushes and Pulls makes almost cinematic fight scenes possible. The level of excitement in the book is kept at a high, as the mysterious mists equivocate between help and danger and ancient legends of the Hero of Ages and the Well of Ascension are investigated.

I think that more so than in the first book, Sanderson displays his willingness to tackle more complicated issues than capers, albeit magical. We see the conflict of love and duty between Sazed and Tindwyl, and the importance of trust between Elend and Vin. Each member of the crew is given a distinctive story that deals with family, friendship, rebellion and deception. We also are prompted to consider aspects of politcal theory and theology as Elend and Sazed respectively try to tackle their respective challenges.

The Well of Ascension is a thrilling sequel to the first in this trilogy. I normally pride myself on working out plot twists while reading, but this book invites only pleasurable mystery. Highly recommended.

Mistborn: The Final Empire presents us with a world in which the Lord Ruler has reigned for a thousand years. Brandon Sanderson takes us through the efforts of Vin, Kelsier and other oppressed skaa to overthrow the tyrant.

The most compelling part of the novel is definitely the clear framework that the magic, Allomancy, is placed into. Unlike say, Harry Potter, the way in which the characters manipulate the basic rules of Allomancy into brilliant fighting is extraordinarily engaging. I like the way that capabilities are generally limited - you never feel as though everyone is missing some obvious strategy, for example.

Looking forward to the rest of the series.

Binyamin Appelbaum produces a stunning overview of the changes in the role and prestige of economists from the 1960s to the present. I majored in economics and think myself fairly conversant, but I was not fully aware of the extent to which economic language and methods are relatively new to society; a shift amounting to nothing less than a revolution. Appelbaum describes how in the 1950s, there were no economists working in the Federal Reserve's leadership, instead being treated there and elsewhere as primarily data analysts. Over the course of the book, he looks at how in fields from taxation and currency valuation, to antitrust and corporate regulation, economists propounded a particular laissez-faire approach to policymaking with often devastating consequences.

What particularly struck me is the naked ideology described in the narrative. Milton Friedman shows up repeatedly, bringing a libertarian approach to topics from the draft to tax cuts but his motivation is not evidence, but belief in “freedom”. Alan Greenspan is the chief proponent of zero regulation in the financial sector, despite mounting abuses and failures. The narrative highlights the extent to which economists were declaring truths that they did not have evidence for; an unearned confidence that remains today. I don't think Appelbaum believes, nor do I, that the pre-economic ways of thinking were ideal. Tools such as cost-benefit analysis or principles of quantifying problems are clearly beneficial. But for all the economic discussion of positive vs. normative analysis, the ideology clearly shaped (and shapes) the kinds of analyses being proposed, and excludes factors that a society might wish to include. It's particularly shocking when confronted with the human costs of this thinking; in the gutted Rust Belt, in Pinochet's Chile. Even more so when you recognize how deep this neoliberal ideology rooted itself, since most of the relevant actors knew these costs and forged ahead anyway.

I strongly recommend this book; it's an invaluable reminder of the relative newness of certain “facts” that neoliberalism has tended to portray as such. For economists, lauded by society, it's a suggestion to preserve some humility. In an era of rising populism and criticisms of capitalism it remains to be seen whether we can build something better, but I hope this book will give us some of the context to get us there.

Laura Brown relates her journal of her year in 2015. UK goes on carbon rationing, limits energy usage by citizens. Results in widespread power cuts, loss of water, heating etc. which throws country into chaos. Protests for/against rationing worldwide, police/army violence often resorted to.

Laura is in a band called the dirty angels, who sing about green punky stuff. Her sister, Kim, is trafficking black market carbon, as well as angry at parents. Dad loses job and goes crazy with gardening, Mum joins Women Moving Forward and becomes slightly mad. She herself is trying to get with neighbour Ravi Datta. Other neighbours are Kieran, gay hairdresser trying to launch Carbon Dating, and Arthur, old ex-rich guy who helps with homework etc.

She is generally negative towards politicans etc. Blames companies for waste, forcing people on rationing - in music. Hates the new living conditions, but also hates those who won't put up with it (rich). Eventually ends up living through the disputes of their parents at wolf camp in the forest, before coming back to have a end-book crisis involving London flooding and NDEs.

Shows the impact of carbon reduction as incredibly bad, but suggests slower reforms are possible.

What a change of pace from East of Eden and the Grapes of Wrath! Cannery Row is a small distillation of what I'm beginning to recognise as Steinbeck's trademark style, the heartfelt descriptions, the humourous yet poignant characterisations, the matter-of-fact narrative. It feels different here though, when the stakes are so much lower. I think I can only feel like the characters of Cannery Row are cute, rather than emotionally taxing in the same way that the other two books are. I particularly liked the briefer anecdotes rather than some of the more extended ones, since I felt like they had just enough flavour without wanting to do more and not having the words for doing so. The Malloys moving into the boiler, Henri and his boat, the soldiers and Dora's girls, Mary Talbot and her parties, the bachelor gopher. I get that I wouldn't enjoy a novella with solely 3 page vignettes, but I think without them Cannery Row would suffer a great deal. The more “philosophical” moments fall a little flatter, like Doc opining about capitalism and how Mack and the boys have actually figured it out. The quips get me more; I loved describing boring parties as “not parties at all but acts and demonstrations, about as spontaneous as peristalsis and as interesting as its end product” (p168). Good, tight read.

Isn't it a little bit funny how screwed up people can be, even when they're trying to do the best they can? I can't empathise with the Cold War mentality, and it's staggering how differently we think these days, but I do see something of myself in most of the Watchmen. Idealism, cynicism, hope, narrowmindedness, uncertainty, determination. This book will make you question a great deal about who you are and what you do. Read it.

The second volume of this omnibus knocks it out of the park. In the first volume, I had wondered why the story focused so much on Yaichi. Here, it becomes clear that the strategy of focusing on the thoughts that people have as they begin to learn about and encounter LGBT people works. Yaichi's continuing arc is relatable and understandable as he explores both the source of his tensions around Mike and reevaluates they way that he treated Ryoji. The culmination of this maturation is Yaichi's willingness to stand up for Mike and Kana, and his final ability to learn about Ryoji's life in Canada. I still wonder what Mike must be feeling inside, but what he displays is an incredibly admirable unflappability that will bear him in good stead. Kana and Natsuki round out the story and make it apparent that this is not just about Mike and Yaichi, but about the family they are building together. I was really hoping for a cute epilogue where they visit Canada, but I guess there's always something to keep waiting for. Read this for a touching, happy, beautiful conclusion to the story.

Brandon knocks it out of the park. It's easy to rattle off the standard criticisms of his writing - the heavy exposition dumps, the told-not-shown characterisation. But increasingly I find that I just don't care, and can even spin those cons into things that I like. The worldbuilding in Roshar is so intricate and exciting that I crave every dump of exposition; each one gives me more to process and ponder. And while it's easy to dismiss the characters as intrinsically talented and therefore uninteresting, I no longer think that I read fantasy for relatable every-person struggles, nor do I think I should. I want to see that I'm reading characters who are exceptional, almost by necessity (spren bond them, after all), and consider what it means to be that way in the face of unimaginable circumstances.

Nor are Brandon's best features missing from Oathbringer. The pacing is continuous and non-stop, even the interludes leave us craving more. Every chapter is a revelation, or a laugh, or a development, or growth, interweaved to be continuously engrossing. I did, after all, get through the 1200+ pages here in a day or so, and it was not exactly forced. If there was one thing I would nitpick at, it would be the increasing prominence of the cosmere in the book. I worry about how an inexperienced reader, or someone who didn't wait out for the book's release, will receive the continuous interjection of terms like Connection, Investiture, Splintering and others. I think more characters than ever before in Oathbringer are involved in the cosmere, and they play much bigger parts.

I am feeling like I find it harder to give praise than to nitpick these days. Still, read this book. And then again, once you've had a chance to appreciate the careful craft in this beautiful, beautiful volume.

At least in my admittedly limited experience, there's a surfeit of queer literature that is heavy or deep in emotional and political scope. My Brother's Husband, instead, focuses on the small things, the everyday interactions that come with being gay in a heteronormative world. I think it's particular interesting that at least in volume 1, we're mostly seeing Yaichi's perspective; Mike is a less developed character. It's not common that we get the internal monologues and worries and decisions and conflicts from the family member who is beginning to deal with and process having a gay brother-in-law. Tagame's writing and art does brilliantly in making these thoughts both poignant and heartwarming. It also succeeds in injecting some comedy, which made reading Kana's reactions in particular thoroughly enjoyable. In the end, I take the volume as a reminder not to catastrophise about these small interactions; that opening up can hurt but reaps its rewards.

What [b:The Prophet 28461875 The Prophet Kahlil Gibran https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1452067735s/28461875.jpg 2938937] might lack in philosophical rigor or depth, it gains in beauty and feeling. I think it misses the point to say that Gibran's treatment of any of his topics, from justice, to death, to good and evil, are complete in the face of centuries of human thought and contemplation on these inherently human questions. I'd tender the suggestion that the Prophet of Orphalese doesn't need to be right, or even for the reader to agree with most of what he says, to have an impact. Yes, that's a little generic and not the most useful, but the takeaway is that I'm not going to judge the Prophet on its content per se but the experience of reading it and listening to it. I love these pieces because it provides a solid counterpoint to many of our prevailing modes of thinking; its tone and metaphor and imagery force you to go “wait, have I been doing it wrong the whole time?” Often I tell myself no, sometimes I tell myself yes, but either way I think it helped my “soul unfold itself, like a lotus of countless petals”.

Unlike some of the other reviewers, I was not lucky enough to be able to read Calvin and Hobbes growing up. Here and there, I might see one or two strips linked to on the Internet, but Calvin and Hobbes had until recently, remained a curiosity to me. Having taken the plunge on this collection, I ended up spending many wonderful evenings working my way through every strip. When I have the time, I look forward to being able to do so again.

For those who don't know much about Calvin and Hobbes, the strip revolves around six year old Calvin and his faithful stuffed tiger companion, Hobbes. Their adventures, both fictional and imaginary, provide a quirky insight into the suburban American life of the eighties and nineties. Don't be put off by the childish setting: Calvin and Hobbes are both capable of some fairly penetrating philosophical insights that will make you sit back and reconsider your life and the world even as you chuckle. I recommend you look up a strip or two to get a feel for Watterson's delightful brand of humour. Some that stood out in my memory are the one where Calvin wears his Dad's glasses and sarcastically mimics him, as well as the one where his dad puts off work to go and play with Calvin in the snow. Watterson uses some recurring jokes that are very evident if you are reading the collection in one go (snowballs/Susie and summer camping holiday spring to mind) but their effect is not diminished. One other thing to be mentioned is the introduction by Bill Watterson at the start of the collection, which helps provide some context for the situation in which Calvin and Hobbes was created and written. The result was that as I approached the end of the third volume, I found many of the panels extremely poignant in the knowledge that they were coming to an end. Dose feels....

In terms of the books themselves: they come as a large three volume box set, reassuringly weighty. The comics are printed in thick, quality paper, vibrant colour where applicable, and with dates attached to each one. The editors have also taken the liberty of rearranging the order of some sets of comics such that a single storyline is always put together, even if you end up with a few Sunday strips in a row - very helpful for the whole reading experience. The set exudes value - it comes strongly recommended.

Set immediately after the events of Ender's Game, this sequel narrates Ender's life following the end of the Bugger War. The story deals primarily with the guilt that Ender feels as a result of having killed two boys while at Battle School, and the unknowing xenocide of an entire species.

Ender sacrifices his reputation by revealing the deaths of Bonzo and Stilson to the court martial, even though he is unable to understand why the buggers “let him win.” He travels out into the colonies to find an answer, and eventually lets himself be beaten up, partly to punish himself.


Orson Scott Card provides some further great lore on the wars during Peter's ascent to the Hegemony. I enjoyed the following up of many characters from Ender's Game, as well as the power the jeesh had on the new Earth. Insight into the way the colonies were created was also welcome.

I think this book falls down on the necessity of sticking with the previous timeline at the end of Ender's Game. Card's afterword notes that he is prone to making errors in continuity. The book suffers from spending a lot of time dealing with how Ender sees his parents and sister on his way to Shakespeare, and much less with his own redemption until the very end. Various plotlines on the ship appeared gratuitous to me - enjoyable to read, but not apparently necessary and diminishing from the “point” of the book.

Looking forward to exploring more of Ender's universe.

I've been reading too much serious/mostly serious fantasy recently, because I'd forgotten how fun and funny a wacky Gaiman adventure can be. [b:Neverwhere 23462649 Neverwhere Neil Gaiman https://images.gr-assets.com/books/1454334106s/23462649.jpg 16534] is sprinkled with dry puns and sly references that constantly keep me chuckling, giving Gaiman credit for the gotcha. But it's also host to great pacing and worldbuilding that keeps me engaged for a charming tale of growth. We end up learning to how to live once you fall through the cracks of London and of life, and then letting yourself stay fallen. What does it take for you to come back when you hit your lowest lows, literally in this case? I don't know that my personal answer will include facing off against a terrible foe, but maybe it'll be something close.