Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.0
This was a fun, silly read that served well for a light read, something easy to get through, a comical dip in dry humor. I recently rewatched the film and thought it to be funnier with the visuals, plot direction, and tone they'd chosen to go with. Still, it was a treat to read the book and see how comedy can be infused into a genre that's usually so tightly detailed as sci-fi.
There's a profound heaviness we feel about our collective wounds and responsibilities in how the planet is changing, suffering, and asking for help during these times. I'm grateful this book doesn't shy away from that, giving language to the overwhelm we're navigating, tracing it back to our ruptured connection with land and the patterns upheld to keep us in constant states of struggle, survival, and forgetfulness.
By sharing her lived experiences in reclaiming, remembering, and honoring practices kept alive by her own and other indigenous lineages (US-based), the author invites us to reflect on our own capacities and efforts of being in right relationship with the living world. In this book, I found reflections of how my own struggles of unbelonging and loneliness are linked to a sense of feeling orphaned from land, from wider community. I found deep queries and burning desires within me - not having much framework for being local to anywhere - to embody a more reciprocal and grounded approach to the natural world, to this planet who still feeds and tends to us through all this chaos.
For this and so much more, I feel this is a crucial read to help situate and cultivate hope, courage, and determination within as we journey through these giant waves of grief and renewal with our Mother Earth.
I recommend reading the Afterword before dipping into the poetry, as it gives an honest and helpful foundation on navigating the essence of Mira - her voice, the collective memory and intrigue of her - enfolded within the translated versions presented in the book. Grounded in the awareness that these versions could never replace or even serve as equals to the originals, the poems felt all the more enjoyable to sit with.
Each facet of Mira's Divine love and longing felt like an open door revealing mirrors that serve the reader as key, salve, or simply companion on the awakened path. I'm grateful to have some access to Mira's words, however distanced it may be. For it's the beauty behind this memory, this template of a life lived intentionally - celebrated within each poetic turning point of yearning, of praying, of becoming - that softens the blow of this often-challenging journey back to one's Source.
A thoroughly light and enjoyable read with genuinely funny, reflective moments. I loved dipping into the scenic day-to-day of Kirrinfief from Nina's perspective. The levity that comes after scary life changes is pictured beautifully through this story, and feels hopeful. I appreciated also the complexity of the first romance we encounter here - though I found the second romance boring, abrupt, and awkward. Though the ending was weak, there was enough here to provide entertainment, intrigue, and a satisfyingly relaxing read.
This was such a sweet, enjoyable light-hearted book, honoring the relationship and challenges between the living world and more-than-human realms, with lovable characters you can laugh with. The story unfolded slowly for the most part and with this style of pacing, there's always the risk that the leisurely set-up might dislocate the story once things began picking up in the plotline. I thought the ending did feel rushed compared to the rest of the book, but it was a satisfying conclusion. A relaxing, fun, and thoughtful read overall.
I tried reading this a few years ago, excited by the hype of it, a gender-smashing sci-fi adventure promised by the synopsis. I didn't get past the first few chapters that time. Picked it back up this year out of a nostalgia for classic sci-fi, more readily aware of the slow pace and dense narration that comes with the territory.
I appreciate Ursula's treatment of imaginative concepts, how easily she weaves a story that serves as a potent reflection for real-life considerations. The frustrations and complications of gender showcased through this slow interplanetary adventure is both intriguing and irritating. I enjoyed the melding-together of landscape, political science, and character growth in this story.
Picked this out for a fun and light fantasy read. It really was easy enough to get through which I appreciate, though the bulk of the story fell flat in comparison to the beautiful and dynamic writing in the beginning and towards the end of the book.
While I found myself wishing the romance here could feel more believable and less like an obligated afterthought, I was impressed by how clearly and compassionately Thia's struggle with depression was depicted. The scenes with the crows and magic were so much fun to read.
This had been on my wishlist for years! Mary Oliver's poetry arrived in my life in letters from friends and passersby, as gifts and beautiful beacons of redirection - always towards the magnificence of nature. Her poetry is a map and statement for how living as truthfully as we can forges in us the skill of receiving nourishment from every nuanced turning of the living world. When I found this at a bookshop last year, I knew it was ready for me - or that I was ready for it. What timing. I rested with this book over the span of months, in between deep waves of grief and longing, receiving the words - along with the memories and images they inspire - as a wonder-filled, leisurely, and sensorially delightful space to exhale.
A crucial read to help navigate the times we're in - how so much of contemporary society has enabled the suppression of authenticity, to the point we're collectively and personally forgetting how to grieve. In spirituality and inner work rhetoric, there can be such an overwhelming polarity between "light" and "dark" that it minimizes the power and potency of sitting with the mysterious and difficult truths that make a journey healing to begin with.
I appreciate how this book provides encouragement and resources for release and remembrance of this deeper grief work. In this, there are pathways and tools to show us how we can welcome the darkness that is all too often banished, giving it a chance to reveal its surprising gifts for our lives. And maybe even for our communities.
A beautiful study on plant spirit and vibrational medicine. For me, this was best read as a library of meaningful references rather than from cover to cover.