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glitterkitter's review
3.0
This is a collection of blog posts about rereading various Science Fiction and Fantasy stories. While I find it very interesting to read about other people reading and why they enjoy (or don't enjoy) what they do, I'm not very well read (really at all) in either genre, and I feel I would have gotten more out of this if I'd been familiar with more of the titles that are talked about.
quietdomino's review
You could definitely just read the original blog posts, (on tor.com) but having them all together is pleasant for skimming and cross-checking with library catalog purposes. I'm not sure if I exactly agree with her on all of her opinions (not the point anyway), but she consistently makes reading sound and feel like the most delightful and meaningful thing ever and for that I support whatever she does.
maria_pulver's review
4.0
First, this is not a fiction book, but a collection of essays that were published on Tor.com and are still available on-line. Second, all the essays are about the books Walton re-read (and she apparently does this all the time and I can perfectly understand).
This is a very personal look into few dozens of SF books - very well known and less known among the SF aficionados. What is unique, it the passion that Walton brings into her pieces. She has profound likes and dislikes and she's not shy to say her bit. This passion causes me to want to read those books from her list that I haven't read yet.
This is a very personal look into few dozens of SF books - very well known and less known among the SF aficionados. What is unique, it the passion that Walton brings into her pieces. She has profound likes and dislikes and she's not shy to say her bit. This passion causes me to want to read those books from her list that I haven't read yet.
luisvilla's review
3.0
This is fun in spots, but it's a collection of light, fast blog posts and that shows. Best read as a source of inspiration (suspect I'll be reading suggestions from it for months, and have already found some gems as a result) rather than particularly insightful criticism.
chirson's review against another edition
4.0
If you know me well, then you probably know that I can be a little excessive about reading about other people reading. If I could, I would force everyone I like, some people I don't like, and possibly some borderline strangers to regularly update me on their reading habits. Instead of satisfying that addiction, goodreads only made things worse when I joined. I'm personally responsible for forcing convincing a number of friends to sign up, promising them that it's fun but really, driven by my desire to keep up to date with their reading. (Raise your hand if I've ever bugged you to update your goodreads! Feel free to do that by means of hitting the like button.)
(What follows is not really a spoiler; you can't really spoil this book; but lengthy and digressive thoughts around and on the side of this book, on the subject of books, reading and reviewing and hate-reviewing, that I thought a spoiler tag would work to hide that part. When I get back to the book at hand, the spoiler tag will end, and there's a tl;dr.)
Lately, however, I've been feeling a little burnt out on goodreads/Internet book communities and spaces. It could at times feel like the more I looked around, the more negativity I encountered. And well, in some cases I am sure it was well-deserved scorn that was being heaped on books (and, in some cases, authors, and in some cases, reviewers, and readers, and... yeah). I mean, when a book has the potential to trigger someone, the chance to know and decide against reading it is nothing to scoff at. Personally, I'm not triggered by books per se, but I do feel pretty awful whenever I encounter certain harmful disability-related tropes, to the point that I usually avoid reading fiction with characters with intellectual disability. It's so rarely done well. But I digress already - my point is, I do prefer to know if I'm about to read a book where the protagonist is saved when a pure-hearted character with DS sacrifices themselves because the world is not a good place to be disabled and also #buryyourdisabled. I don't think that requires explanations. And I understand that others have various issues they are more sensitive to and aware of than I am, and so their reactions to books can be pretty strong. I don't think there's anything wrong with that, and I certainly wouldn't want to be forbidden from complaining about the stuff I dislike. (I'm Polish, complaining is a national sport - not a pastime, we're far too serious about it. I'm allowed to say it because it's true.)
In fact, I've written a negative and even a scathing review (or five) on this very website. Pointing out racism, or cultural appropriation, or really inconsistent tone, or #killingallthequeerwomen. I've also frequently written positive reviews that pointed to some parts of a book that bothered me.
So it's not that that has got me down. (Sorry for the long hedging here.) It's more that it feels like I've seen more anger than joy, and that the angry reviews seem to get more traction, particularly from people who haven't read something. (Certainly seems to be this way about my own reviews. I'd love to get the likes for my raves instead. Not that that doesn't happen to other people; clearly I'm raving wrong.) But I've gone to pages for books I *loved* only to see that the top review is a one-star DNF complaining about things that aren't even accurately represented in the review, but given hundreds of likes for being entertaining by people who haven't read the book but trust that person to be right about it.
And then I think, well, what if people see my review (positive! lotsofstars!) and think ill of me because I'm not coming down on the book for the same reason? Is my reading wrong because I wasn't offended? Am I being insensitive? But I read it, and they didn't, and yet I feel potentially ashamed of my enjoyment. This is even true about books I'd graded ages ago, and doubly so when I post a review of a controversial book now.
And then there's another aspect: I am tormented by the bad impulse to correct people who are wrong on the Internet and claim something about the book that to me sounds like a really doubtful or biased interpretation, one that requires disregarding parts of the book that contradict it. But then again, the problem arises - what if they aren't wrong? Maybe the book clicked with me, making me ignore the unsavoury parts. Maybe I blinked and missed (or, as the case has been once, accidentally pressed next page fifteen times and skipped) the part that was truly bad, the fly in the ointment. And yet - maybe the reviewers are wrong. I've seen authors who wrote books representing their own experience and identity get slammed for being culturally insensitive on flimsy evidence. I've seen reviews that state authoritatively that the book is garbage for claiming that group X is inferior, or depicts the group as such, when in fact it's a villain, or at least a person with a stake, who makes that statement and it is textually called out. And don't get me started on books with narrators who are wrong (and the readers are given data to know that the narrator is wrong) about something...
Anyways, I'm fairly sure it's been a while since I last stepped in; now I'm reduced to secretly hoping someone will say something clever and convincing instead (ideally, someone who actually knows the reviewer and not me, an unwelcome online stranger). And vice versa - if I see someone loving a book I hated with a fiery passion, I don't come over to tell someone their taste sucks(even if really, I don't see how you can read that author's note and not feel that it's condescending!). And yet I sort of feel like my enjoyment of books I loved gets at least a little sapped when I realise others hated them for reasons that sound like the opposite of YMMV. It feels like I've gone out of my way to have someone tell me my taste sucks. And they don't even know me. Or, well, my internet persona.
I feel like there should be a point to this. Maybe it's this: the problem is probably mostly me, and surely the only solution can be found in learning what to avoid and how to deal with types of critique that are vastly popular and influential. I should grow both more sensitivity to the issues I'm not an expert on and thicker skin when it comes to reviewers disliking what I liked. I should be willing to consider the possibility that I missed the shittiness and, if upon consideration I stand by my assessment that the reading that sees the book as bad isn't textually supported, then I shouldn't let it affect my enjoyment. No one should pretend the suck fairy isn't there if she is, but I shouldn't let others' suck fairies get me that riled up if I don't think they're there.
But maybe, if the suck fairy isn't a major part of the book, its body or framework, but one element of many, it would also be good not to only focus on the bad, and not to feel like others' aren't entitled to different readings. Moreover, maybe the fact that others don't consider the book to be, and let me list random things, anti-lesbian, or antisemitic, or anti-Eastern European, doesn't mean that they didn't pay attention or notice something that is there, but rather that they read the whole and emerged with a different but also valid interpretation.
And maybe it's okay to have a few problematic favesas long as they are not Supernatural I mean are you serious that was flaming poison.
Okay, tl;dr abbreviated version: sometimes seeing people complain about how awful some books purportedly are on various issues makes me sad or like things less even when I think those people are wrong, or even when I think people are right and I agree and disliked the book too / have no desire to read it, because I wish instead of having to point out the shitty we could focus on celebrating the awesome.
And that's what makes this book so fun. I don't always agree with Walton's tastes at all, but I loved how enthusiastic and loving she is about books and how unapologetic she is about liking what she likes. And at the same time, that she is willing to admit when stuff she likes contains flaming piles of garbage. I mean, most of us have loved piles of garbage at some point. (A few books by Oscar Scott Card were so influential for me as a teen and had an impact on shaping some parts of my life philosophy. And that's not even mentioning what fanfic I read.) It reminded me of how much I can enjoy interacting with others about reading, and that criticism, also when coming from me, doesn't have to be like a contest where the person who notices the most that's wrong, wins*. I'm grateful for the recommendations (I've noted down a few titles I want to check out.) I was so happy that she'd written up Bujold novels, because I could read the novel and then Walton's take on it.
*Unless it's typos, in which case, Tor.com, don't mix up it's and its please, how am I supposed to tell my ESL students that it matters to use them correctly in formal contexts.
As to the format of the book, amusingly enough, I don't think it quite worked for me - I would have liked to have more context in some cases (some of the essays definitely felt like they were only written for readers acquainted with the work under discussion). All the same, I really enjoyed the short essays that were more meta - about the act of reading, aspects of SF, Walton's readerly quirks. I saw myself a lot in her description of where she reads (I mean, unless I'm playing Pokemon Go, I read on my commute. Even if I'm walking on foot. I haven't caused an accident, yet.)
But as my wife likes to repeat (or maybe quote?), a good book makes you want to read all the books, and this book made me feel like reading not just some of the books it hailed but all the books (insert that hyperbole and a half pic), even ones I won't love, and maybe even a few that won't make me look good (to myself) on goodreads. Badreads? Goodreads secrets, anyone?
(What follows is not really a spoiler; you can't really spoil this book; but lengthy and digressive thoughts around and on the side of this book, on the subject of books, reading and reviewing and hate-reviewing, that I thought a spoiler tag would work to hide that part. When I get back to the book at hand, the spoiler tag will end, and there's a tl;dr.)
Spoiler
Lately, however, I've been feeling a little burnt out on goodreads/Internet book communities and spaces. It could at times feel like the more I looked around, the more negativity I encountered. And well, in some cases I am sure it was well-deserved scorn that was being heaped on books (and, in some cases, authors, and in some cases, reviewers, and readers, and... yeah). I mean, when a book has the potential to trigger someone, the chance to know and decide against reading it is nothing to scoff at. Personally, I'm not triggered by books per se, but I do feel pretty awful whenever I encounter certain harmful disability-related tropes, to the point that I usually avoid reading fiction with characters with intellectual disability. It's so rarely done well. But I digress already - my point is, I do prefer to know if I'm about to read a book where the protagonist is saved when a pure-hearted character with DS sacrifices themselves because the world is not a good place to be disabled and also #buryyourdisabled. I don't think that requires explanations. And I understand that others have various issues they are more sensitive to and aware of than I am, and so their reactions to books can be pretty strong. I don't think there's anything wrong with that, and I certainly wouldn't want to be forbidden from complaining about the stuff I dislike. (I'm Polish, complaining is a national sport - not a pastime, we're far too serious about it. I'm allowed to say it because it's true.)
In fact, I've written a negative and even a scathing review (or five) on this very website. Pointing out racism, or cultural appropriation, or really inconsistent tone, or #killingallthequeerwomen. I've also frequently written positive reviews that pointed to some parts of a book that bothered me.
So it's not that that has got me down. (Sorry for the long hedging here.) It's more that it feels like I've seen more anger than joy, and that the angry reviews seem to get more traction, particularly from people who haven't read something. (Certainly seems to be this way about my own reviews. I'd love to get the likes for my raves instead. Not that that doesn't happen to other people; clearly I'm raving wrong.) But I've gone to pages for books I *loved* only to see that the top review is a one-star DNF complaining about things that aren't even accurately represented in the review, but given hundreds of likes for being entertaining by people who haven't read the book but trust that person to be right about it.
And then I think, well, what if people see my review (positive! lotsofstars!) and think ill of me because I'm not coming down on the book for the same reason? Is my reading wrong because I wasn't offended? Am I being insensitive? But I read it, and they didn't, and yet I feel potentially ashamed of my enjoyment. This is even true about books I'd graded ages ago, and doubly so when I post a review of a controversial book now.
And then there's another aspect: I am tormented by the bad impulse to correct people who are wrong on the Internet and claim something about the book that to me sounds like a really doubtful or biased interpretation, one that requires disregarding parts of the book that contradict it. But then again, the problem arises - what if they aren't wrong? Maybe the book clicked with me, making me ignore the unsavoury parts. Maybe I blinked and missed (or, as the case has been once, accidentally pressed next page fifteen times and skipped) the part that was truly bad, the fly in the ointment. And yet - maybe the reviewers are wrong. I've seen authors who wrote books representing their own experience and identity get slammed for being culturally insensitive on flimsy evidence. I've seen reviews that state authoritatively that the book is garbage for claiming that group X is inferior, or depicts the group as such, when in fact it's a villain, or at least a person with a stake, who makes that statement and it is textually called out. And don't get me started on books with narrators who are wrong (and the readers are given data to know that the narrator is wrong) about something...
Anyways, I'm fairly sure it's been a while since I last stepped in; now I'm reduced to secretly hoping someone will say something clever and convincing instead (ideally, someone who actually knows the reviewer and not me, an unwelcome online stranger). And vice versa - if I see someone loving a book I hated with a fiery passion, I don't come over to tell someone their taste sucks
I feel like there should be a point to this. Maybe it's this: the problem is probably mostly me, and surely the only solution can be found in learning what to avoid and how to deal with types of critique that are vastly popular and influential. I should grow both more sensitivity to the issues I'm not an expert on and thicker skin when it comes to reviewers disliking what I liked. I should be willing to consider the possibility that I missed the shittiness and, if upon consideration I stand by my assessment that the reading that sees the book as bad isn't textually supported, then I shouldn't let it affect my enjoyment. No one should pretend the suck fairy isn't there if she is, but I shouldn't let others' suck fairies get me that riled up if I don't think they're there.
But maybe, if the suck fairy isn't a major part of the book, its body or framework, but one element of many, it would also be good not to only focus on the bad, and not to feel like others' aren't entitled to different readings. Moreover, maybe the fact that others don't consider the book to be, and let me list random things, anti-lesbian, or antisemitic, or anti-Eastern European, doesn't mean that they didn't pay attention or notice something that is there, but rather that they read the whole and emerged with a different but also valid interpretation.
And maybe it's okay to have a few problematic faves
Okay, tl;dr abbreviated version: sometimes seeing people complain about how awful some books purportedly are on various issues makes me sad or like things less even when I think those people are wrong, or even when I think people are right and I agree and disliked the book too / have no desire to read it, because I wish instead of having to point out the shitty we could focus on celebrating the awesome.
And that's what makes this book so fun. I don't always agree with Walton's tastes at all, but I loved how enthusiastic and loving she is about books and how unapologetic she is about liking what she likes. And at the same time, that she is willing to admit when stuff she likes contains flaming piles of garbage. I mean, most of us have loved piles of garbage at some point. (A few books by Oscar Scott Card were so influential for me as a teen and had an impact on shaping some parts of my life philosophy. And that's not even mentioning what fanfic I read.) It reminded me of how much I can enjoy interacting with others about reading, and that criticism, also when coming from me, doesn't have to be like a contest where the person who notices the most that's wrong, wins*. I'm grateful for the recommendations (I've noted down a few titles I want to check out.) I was so happy that she'd written up Bujold novels, because I could read the novel and then Walton's take on it.
*Unless it's typos, in which case, Tor.com, don't mix up it's and its please, how am I supposed to tell my ESL students that it matters to use them correctly in formal contexts.
As to the format of the book, amusingly enough, I don't think it quite worked for me - I would have liked to have more context in some cases (some of the essays definitely felt like they were only written for readers acquainted with the work under discussion). All the same, I really enjoyed the short essays that were more meta - about the act of reading, aspects of SF, Walton's readerly quirks. I saw myself a lot in her description of where she reads (I mean, unless I'm playing Pokemon Go, I read on my commute. Even if I'm walking on foot. I haven't caused an accident, yet.)
But as my wife likes to repeat (or maybe quote?), a good book makes you want to read all the books, and this book made me feel like reading not just some of the books it hailed but all the books (insert that hyperbole and a half pic), even ones I won't love, and maybe even a few that won't make me look good (to myself) on goodreads. Badreads? Goodreads secrets, anyone?
carstensena's review
4.0
I mark this as "read" but it is not the kind of book to read straight through. I have dipped in several times and will continue to do so. This is a wonderful book about books, about the experience of re-reading, of what makes a read satisfying, etc. I'm not a huge reader of fantasy and science fiction, but I've read enough to enjoy this. It certainly threatens to make my TBR pile out of control!
Among Others is one of my favorite books, and this is a wonderful companion to that novel, although I doubt it was intended that way.
Among Others is one of my favorite books, and this is a wonderful companion to that novel, although I doubt it was intended that way.