Another fun entry in the Murderbot Diaries. This one features the sickeningly adorable pet-robot Miki, who forms a sort-of friendship with our depressed Murderbot. This book was full of humour and more emotional development from our lovable cyborg.
We see Murderbot's jealousy when it comes to Miki and how it is treated. We glimpse it's longing for a more simple life, one where it wasn't burdened by the things it has known or experienced. "...Miki was a bot who had never been abused or lied to or treated with anything but indulgent kindness. It really thought its humans were its friends, because that's how they treated it. I signaled Miki I would be withdrawing for one minute. I needed to have an emotion in private." That quote sums up the humour dashed with emotional undertones which makes me love this series. Miki is adorable, and set up wonderfully throughout the entire book to be an adorable but annoying foil for our protagonist.
The combat bots were a fun new wrinkle, getting to see Murderbot work out how to attack and take down things much scarier than it. Also, the human characters in this were pretty good at serving their purpose, despite still being cardboard cutouts.
This review contains small spoilers unrelated to the plot.
I FUCKING loved this book. This book is a cake with far too many layers our leading lady to ever take a bit of it. A mix of British working class reality, womanhood and psychopathic behaviours, where each layer lets you sample a different, unsanitary layer of modern society.
Your first bite might taste of too many fags, cheap beer and hard liquor, which leads to piggy-backing onto your weird mates who would wander off with strangers towards the end of a night out, with the promise of some sort of after party or drugs, ending with everything becoming increasingly less fun, a little dangerous, and just pretty fucking desperate all around.
Nibble downward to be assaulted by classism, and the struggles faced by the working class while trying to develop and integrate with new communities, and how everything comes easier to those with inherited wealth and connections, the safety net of Mummy and Daddy’s money, and the ability to bounce back from setbacks that would knock a regular Joe on their arse.
Lick the cream and you’ll taste the hypocrisy of those trying to climb the social ladder. How our leading lady, Irina, looks down on those around her with the same snobbishness and ‘patient othering’ she is used to being treated with. But among Irina’s flaws, a lack of class consciousness isn’t her main one.
Take a heafty bite of the icing on this stretched metaphor, and you’ll find an absolute treat. Irina, a late 20-something who is a hot, talented, intelligent woman. She’s also a vile bitch, master manipulator, and rotten narcissist. She’s one of my favourite characters I’ve read in years, and a big part of the reason why I devoured this book in two sittings. This bitch made me ravenous.
What vile thing would she say to her best friend next, what fucked up abuse would she put some stranger through, what fuck-up would happen next, and why the fuck was she like this?! These are the questions which made me devour this book like Irina devours her meal with Eddie from Tesco.
Irina is a talented photographer, taking pictures which other tend to class as fetishistic. To her, it’s just her art. Except, that’s not really the truth. First and foremost, Irina is a liar, closely joined by being an incredible narcissist. She wants what she wants and will do whatever she deems necessary to take it. She lies to us, her friends, and to herself. So much so, it’s hard at times to tell what events are real, made up, or conveniently altered to provide Irina with an edgy story, or point of potential manipulative power in the future.
Irina is tall and strong, physically dominating over many of the men in the novel. She is a well-maintained piece of topiary, and Clark takes great care to let us know that Irina isn’t ‘magically hot’. She might strike you initially as a ‘big-titty goth girlfriend’ stereotype; alternative, edgy and intellectual, but this bitch works hard to look good and she will tell you that herself. She’s clearly shown to have an eating disorder, wears a waist trainer, exercises regularly, and essentially survives off salad and tuna. Not to mention her self-harm, clear depression and PTSD, which all cause Irina and her friends a great deal of pain.
It’s this juxtaposition which makes this book, and Irina, quite special. Despite being a literal murderer (probably) and an angry, spiteful, vindictive person, Irina feels so incredibly real and relatable. There are good chunks of this book where you feel sympathy for this person-come-monster that it makes you start to question what you really know, what you truly feel, about people like her.
Irina is a victim. We believe victims. But what if the victim is also a known liar – one known to lie about bad things happening to them to feed their own mythology, their own convenient sob story. Do we believe victims then?
That’s a question posed by Flo, Irina’s long-abused friend, former convenient fuck, and hopelessly ‘basic’ bisexual who is absolutely still in love with Irina. It’s one I still don’t have a good answer for in the context of this book. It’s these very real, murky, complicated questions which lead you through Clarks narrative, and help to make some of the more blatantly abusive things Irina does almost palatable.
These elements of Boy Parts may rub some readers the wrong way, with Irina often being dismissive and critical of feminism and ‘woke’ culture. While one could take Clark’s critiquing of (particularly fourth wave) feminism as offensive, I think it’s the sort of critique that the current feminist movement appreciates and knows is necessary. While I think you’d struggle to call Irina herself a feminist, I do think this book could be classed as a feminist test, simply by the fact that it exists as art. It is the sort of feminism which allows you to show a truly evil woman – every bit as evil (and as real) as the most abhorrent you’ve ever read about – and to point and say ‘that’s also being a woman’. As Irina herself says, “I wonder what I have to do for people to recognise me as a threat. Do I have to smash a glass over the head of every single man I come into contact with, just so I leave a mark?”
There are so many elements of this book which I love but haven’t yet covered. Flo and Finch are fantastic supporting characters, each who feel as fully realised and complex as Irina herself. But of course, the spotlight shines on Irina, so we only see subtle hints of their depths. Over the course of a couple of nights out with these two, we see Irina’s disdain for their feelings and penchant for extinguishing her cigarettes in their weak spots. And then, there’s Irina’s relationship with Eddie from Tesco.
Eddie is initially portrayed as a mostly likeable (if not irritatingly pathetic) character. Like a young boy who can’t swim but is pushed into the pool before his friends, every interaction with Irina leaves him gasping for breath; clearly panicked, but laughing along, trying not to show how scared he truly was. He is a soft, geeky boy, and Irina’s favourite new toy. But even he has ugly parts which get exposed. He also has one of my favourite quotes from the book. In a message to Irina, he writes “I don't know if you realise how you speak to people sometimes, the way you feed people table scraps. I know that's that what I get from you, table scraps, but because it's scraps from your table, it's better than a 3 course meal with someone else. And you've given me glimpses into your life, your real life, and I wonder if it's your fault. I wonder if you've got anything but scraps to give.”
So, finally, the prose of this book is wonderful. The two quotes I included might give you a small taste, but it’s written in a way that feels incredibly modern, making use of references that don’t make you cringe, and with a sharp, devilish tongue which teases and endears you, before clobbering you with some truly disturbing sights.
Artificial Conditioning is the second book in The Murderbot Diaries, and I cannot recommend it enough.
It takes the elements I loved from the first one, dials them up a couple of notches, then improves on the first by giving Murderbot more time to reflect on what it is, what it might want, and what it means to be a Rogue Murderbot. Throw in the loveable sidekick, a gigantic cargo vessel called ART (Asshole Research Transport) and you've got one of the weirdest and most charming buddy comedies I've seen.
I absolutely loved ART as a character, and I'm devastated it doesn't stay with Murderbot at the end of this book. Their relationship is funny from the start, with some genuinely laugh out loud moments (well, a mild snort, which in my opinion is basically the same thing). I enjoyed Murderbot having body modifications made to it with the help of ART, and you could feel it wrestling with what it knew it needed to do, worrying about what making changes could mean for it.
ART was written wonderfully, providing help, banter, and gentle parenting of Murderbot when necessary. As with the previous book, if I have to give a criticism it's that the human characters were "meh". But this time the plot linked in much more closely with Murderbot itself, and I think that made it much more enjoyable.
This book manages to move at absolutely blinding speed, I read it in a few hours over two days, and at no point did I want to put it down and do something else. Highly recommended, even if you only thought the first in the series was "okay".
This short romp takes us through some industrial espionage on an unexplored planet where we gain insight into Murderbots' feelings about itself, humans, and the mundanity of work.
All Systems Red is a punchy introduction to the universe of Murderbot. We follow Murderbot as they try to navigate awkward interactions with humans, regular interactions with humans, and avoiding humans wherever possible - unless they're the ones on the entertainment feed.
Wells sets up a world that feels very real, despite our very limited view. Murderbot itself is (probably unintentionally) funny, thinks about things in a different way to regular humans, and is socially awkward, introverted, and - let's be honest - overflowing with autism. Murderbot is also a bit depressed and socially anxious, and frankly I'm yet to meet anyone under the age of 35 who isn't at least one of those things.
On the negative side, we are introduced to a small number of characters who don't all manage to feel quite as fleshed out as I would have liked, due to the focus on plot rather than character development for the sake of pacing. This would be fine had I liked the overall plot more. It was fine, but despite sounding very good on paper, I wasn't as interested in it as I was the world and characters enveloping it.
Overall a fun, short introduction to the character that leaves you wanting more.
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.5
Lives of Tao follows our resident immortal alien ghost (Tao) in the body of a schlubby loser (Roan) as the two try to learn how to work together and understand each other, all while fighting off the evil Genjix who wants to continue causing harm to humanity because conflict breeds innovation.
So that's the big premise, andit's fun. The book is fun. There's a lot to poke holes in here - and this is the first in the series, so maybe some of these holes will be plugged in the future - but this book works if you take it as what it is; a fun spy action-comedy.
I liked the humour of the book, and how realistic the main character felt. Yes, he's a bit whiny and lazy, but frankly, I'm lazy and whiny, and I don't have a weird ghostly alien with some noble mission living inside of me.
The action scenes feel clear, and the book moves at a clip. The introduction does an especially good job of getting us in the James Bond mindset, only to be hit in the face with flabby reality when we meet Roen. There are stakes, and people do get hurt or die. This isn't a book which is afraid to hurt a character you might like.
I don't like how easily everyone seems to trust the Prophus (the name of the group Tao and other "good" ghost aliens go by) who split from their main faction merely a century or two ago.
I don't enjoy Roen tricking his way into charming a women into liking him by just parroting everything Tao says to him. It feels gross and manipulative, because it is.
Nor do I particularly enjoy the paper thing women characters, of whom there are only 3. We have cool ass kicking hot babe who is hot, Roens girlfriend (whose personality is that she takes a lot of long work trips), and the British girl, who is also good looking and likes tea.
I'm being facetious, of course, but I'm not far off the mark in most of my complaints.
So, would I rec mmend it? Yes, if you want to read an action movie, it'll fill that niche. If you're after a spy story about warring factions of aliens...it might scratch that particular itch. But if you want anything deeper, don't bother.
Despite how this review sounds, I did enjoy the book overall, and will probably continue with the series. It's always easier to talk about dislikes than likes, so if anything I've said has made you go "hey, that sounds fun actually" then give this a read. It's fast paced and direct; you'll know within a chapter or two if it's for you or not.
We follow gumshoe detective John Persons as he discovers the lovecraftian horrors infecting the stepdad of a young London bot. Oh, and that boy asked him to kill his stepdad.
A solid novella. It's pretty short, but certainly sets a clear detective-noir tone from the off. The hard-boiled, pulpy vernacular is juxtaposed by a fairly modern London, which creates an interesting separation between our point of view and the facts of London town proper.
There are a few gross descriptions, some good lovecraftian creatures and vibes, and a fun couple of twists too.
So, a fun short read overall. Nothing new and spectacular, but fans of the genre will breeze through this in a couple of hours and have a fun time. I think I'll look at the next in the series, and I may try one of the authors stand-alone longer stories.
The premise is a world very much like ours contains a foundation dedicated to stopping the weird ruining the world. So far, so x-files. Except we're talking weirder stuff than normal aliens; think more "we found out cthulu was real and put it in a box" type of weird.
So yeah, a cool premise for any sci-fi nerd. Within that organisation are, obviously, different departments. This book focuses on the antimemetics division. If a meme is a thing that propogates, an antimeme does the opposite.
You can learn a thing, but that information erases itself. Think of a book you can read which you then immediately forget everything about. Actually, that hits too close to home.
In this novel we see people trying to combat world-ending creatures that have antimemetic properties. So how do you fight against a thing which you can't remember exists?
That's the hook of the book, and it hits the bullseye repeatedly. It's a series of short stories set in this world which introduces us to some of the ideas listed above, and more. We follow a few key characters and see how the Foundation and the entities they try to contain effect not only reality, but their interpersonal lives and their worldview.
There's so much to love about this book. It's clever, somber, gross, and sardonic, but with enough of a dark sense of humour to not make it all feel overly dramatic or grimdark.
The author is apparently rewriting this book to no longer include the SCP foundation, which makes sense for proper publication. I'm sure a generic shady government organisation will make do instead.
The only thing I didn't really enjoy was the heaven stuff. It felt a bit vague, although I did enjoy Marion coming back to talk to Adam. Incredibly sad. The ending was also fine but frankly I don't know how you'd end this entirely satisfactorily, especially because of how far the story goes.
So yeah, loved it. Can't wait to read more by qntm!
Bob, our protagonist, works in a mundane office job filled with internal politics, boring training seminars, and Escher-like occult computers which protect us all from an incursion of arcane horrors. Oh, and an audit is due.
So it's weird, quirky and filled with dry British humour that satarises office politics and manages to be it's own thriller while revelling in how daft and mundane saving the world is.
There are a lot of good hooks in this book (which is actually two novellas in one, which I was unaware of) - enough to make me want to continue the series.
There's nothing too deep here so far, but I enjoyed these first two books and will continue with the series in the future.
I look forward to seeing how the authors writing changes and develops over time.
This is a interesting short story collection which tells the tales of various modern women across Argentina (and Barcelona) who are experiencing distinctly un-modern things.
As a whole I'm not sure how I feel about this collection. I enjoyed most of the stories, and the fact that the longest one, Kids Who Come Back, was one of my favourite speaks to the author (and translators) abilities.
There is a general sense of apathy, acceptance, or even simple nonchalance from the characters in this book - at least, compared to how I imagine myself and others would act when presented with horrifying supernatural presences.
It's this almost absurd tone which leads us into the book, starting with Angelita Unearthed; a story about a disgusting dead baby who follows the protagonist around, morbidly running on its too-small legs, until the flesh is rubbed away and it runs on bone.
Moments like that poke out throughout the collection. A phrase or two in every short story which sticks in the mind. For me, this is usually a particularly gross description, or a haunting final line which sets the brain whirling.
To call it a horror collection seems like a bit of a stretch. There are creepy macabre themes running through most of the stories, some leaning on old religion, many on death and brutality, with some commenting on society and how we interact with others.
However, "terror" is rarely, if ever, evoked. The book is creepy and uneasy, a tone which is echo d by our relatively apathetic narrators. Some may find that resonates with them more than others.
Women are the narrators and protagonists of these stories, and they are all varied and interesting characters who feel well realised, even in a brief time. There are several scenes of masturbation that are intentionally unpleasant, even brutal, which are evocative. Where Are You, Dear Heart is possibly the most graphic story in the collection, but to me reads like a much more straightforward "horror" story. That isn't a knock, as it was possibly my favourite in the collection.
I didn't get something from all of these stories, unlike other collections I've read (such as Ted Chiang's work). The titular title did nothing for me at all, but that's the nature of short story collections and I'm sure others will find more than I did.
However, there's enough here for me to recommend it if you want something not too scary, with a knowing dark smile that has the ability to gross you out or give you a chill.
Ranked in order of preference:
1. Where Are You, Dear Heart 2. Kids Who Come Back 3. Back When We Talked to the Dead 4. Meat 5. Angelita Unearthed 6. No Birthdays or Baptisms 7. Our Lady of the Quarry 8. The Well 9. The Cart 10. Rambla Triste 11. The Lookout 12. The Dangers of Smoking in Bed
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.25
This isn't the sort of book I usually go for, and to say I "enjoyed" it feels disingenuous. This book is overarchingly bleak, and feels suffocating at times. But the time you spend with the main cast of characters and seeing how they develop and change throughout the years really endears you towards them.
When you realise what's happening, the ending is inevitable. You watch as these characters you care for go through futile motions based on an existance they don't understand, working only within the confines of a system they aren't even aware of. It's heartbreaking, and frustrating.
Ishiguro captures the mundanity of human nature, personal morality and companionship in a way I've not seen before.
I'm glad I read this book. I think it's one which I'll think about going forward, and I'm intrigued to see what the authors other works are like.