Excellent. A wonderful exploration of the enormous role played by the cells of one woman in medical research, but also the real lives of Henrietta and her family, and the ways in which they were (emotionally, legally) and were not (financially) affected by the widespread use of her cells. There's an interesting scientific story here that I enjoyed learning about, but really the story of Henrietta Lacks's cells is a history of medical ethics over the 60 years after her death, especially the issues of informed consent to medical research and ownership of human tissue. It touches on exploitation of prisoners, black people and the poor, but the most appalling story was what happened to Elsie Lacks - Henrietta's daughter - which didn't actually involve HeLa cells but if I were writing the book I'd have found it hard to stay on topic knowing about that. Deserves a book in its own right, but I'm sure they must have been written. At the heart of it though, was the insane injustice that Henrietta Lacks contributed so much to medical progress but her own family couldn't afford healthcare. Obviously healthcare in the US is batshit so I'd be interested to know how the UK compares on some of the ethics, especially relating to big pharma.
This was very well written. The scientific, human and ethical strands are all carefully woven together to craft one really engaging story. I listened to it as an audiobook and for the second half I was lying in the dark with a horrible migraine and it succeeded in distracting me, so job well done I'm very grateful.
Solidly consistent with the previous two in the series. Fun, readable, very plot-driven YA. Not exactly great literature. Kudos for diverse cast of characters that feels organic rather than tokenism (don't think I commented on that for the previous ones in the series)
This was just quite good. Not brilliant but not bad either. A bit meh? There were a few interesting ideas discussed, a few insightful points made and some relatable experiences raised that I didn't realise were actually a common thing. So on the whole I think it was worth reading. The section on gender in particular I thought was quite illuminating, especially the discussion about the prevalence of "gender ambivalence" among a-specs, and the parallels between discomfort around being sexualised and gender dysphoria. This section I think gained a lot from the author's perspective as a non-binary person. I also enjoyed the chapter on the future of relationships.
I feel like I should preface my criticisms with a little disclaimer that this book was actually very readable Because I have a lot of criticisms. So I think this review may end up weighted more towards the negative than is actually reflected in my feelings about it.
First, where was the structure? I have a major pet peeve about nonfiction seeming to be exempt from any expectation to be enjoyable, gripping or have a narrative-flow-like structure. It needs to be going somewhere! I don't care if it's supposed to be a bitty book about various different aspects of the ace community, you can still have a common thread that's leading up to some kind of conclusion. This wasn't even just a problem between chapters; within chapters it was just jumping about all over the place. I listened to the episode of the Sounds Fake but Okay podcast where they interviewed Young and I can't remember the exact phrase they used but essentially they described the process of putting it all together as a haphazard mess or something like that. And I thought WE CAN TELL! Think about what you want to say and how the ideas fit together, plan out the structure and then write it. Honestly.
Secondly, who the hell was the target audience for this? If it was a-spec people who are already familiar with the common terms and concepts, then er I think there's way too much waffling about stuff they'll already know. I was bored a lot of the time and at some points a bit incredulous at some of the things Young mentioned never having come across before starting to write the book. On the other hand, if the target audience was people who aren't familiar with any of that stuff then this was terrible! The chapter called 'Who Are We?' which explained the basic terminology was by far the worst chapter in the whole book. It was vague and confusing as Young tied themself up in knots trying not to say anything definitive at all in order to avoid excluding people who use certain terms slightly differently or who think that such and such is actually the same as such and such etc. etc. The definition of asexuality was given in a single sentence that was absolutely terribly constructed - I went back and found it before writing this review and I was genuinely confused by it. So if you don't already know what asexuality is before reading it, god help you. This is a pretty bloody major problem for a book subtitled "What it means to be Asexual, Aromantic, Demi or Grey-Ace"!!!! I'd have thought that chapter would be a fairly critical one to get clear and understandable, and there must be a way to do that that's still inclusive.
Third problem: although I liked having lots of direct quotes from interviewees etc. and enjoyed all the different perspectives, I really really would have liked to be able to keep track of who was who. The system using initials really didn't lend itself to that and I just think that was a big opportunity missed to make links between individuals' answers on different topics. It was kind of like "I interviewed 40 a-spec people about gender and here's what they said" then "I interviewed 40 a-spec people about relationships and here's what they said" and very little attempt to capitalise on the fact that they were the same 40 people and to draw out links between their answers to different questions. It just upsets me to have so much data like that and not be making full use of it.
All that said, I do think this book is worth reading and it's a step in the right direction in terms of adding to the books out there about a-specs beyond basic introductions and myth debunking. However, if it's unknown territory I'd strongly suggest starting at the back of this book where there's a long list of online resources, all of which explain the basics 100x better than this book does. Have a read of those and then have a go at this.
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.5
Ah this was fab. Cutesy, cosy fantasy with a ridiculously cheesy romance. Some of the cheesiness was almost unforgivably cringey (seriously who says 'we're all made of stardust' unironically?? And the whole 'to fly you have to jump and run the risk of falling' spiel, seriously??) and the whole thing was extremely obvious and predictable - if even I saw that twist coming then everyone must because I am really terrible at that sort of thing. But you know what? I did forgive it because all the characters were so loveable and funny (I laughed so hard at the bit with the skeleton at the end) and I was still gripped by it and it was generally so charming and heartwarming. I had a very wholesome day with my scented candle, chai latte and this book. Exactly what the doctor ordered.
I struggled with this one, and some of my issues with it were definitely 'me problems', but some of them weren't.
First the things I liked about it though. I enjoyed the first 100 pages a lot and I whizzed through them. It was engaging world-building, and I found Klara an intriguing perspective - her childish naivety coupled with curiosity and uncanny philosophical depth of perception gives us a wonderful way to discover this world that's so similar to our own but for a few fundamental differences. I found her tendency to ascribe motives and meaning really interesting for a robot. It was almost too human? I read an interview (https://www.wired.com/story/kazuo-ishiguro-interview/) with Ishiguro where he talks about AI "overfitting" (but not really in this context) and when you think about it like that it seems obvious that AI should develop a whole bunch of bizarre superstitions, such as Klara's worshiping the sun. The other thing I enjoyed was the suggestion that Klara may be able to "learn" Josie and then become her after she died. Less for the issues raised in the book itself than for the things that it made me think about afterwards.
Now for the 'me problems': I'm just not really interested in the whole AI-takes-over-and-it-wreaks-havoc-on-society genre. In fact I'm not really a dystopia fan full stop but this in particular just kind of switches me off. Not that it's not an interesting idea worth exploring, it just doesn't excite me personally at all. The other problem is that I didn't really get this book. After the initial world-building I didn't feel pulled in and there didn't seem to be much structure to it. I think a big point of it was slowly figuring out the final key elements of the set-up from a slow drip of small details rather than having it explained directly, but I think I failed utterly to pick up on some of those crucial details. I got to the end and had to google what being "lifted" was actually supposed to mean because I was still none the wiser - apparently it means the kids were genetically engineered to be more intelligent? Apparently most people who read it seem to have figured that out but I'm completely baffled as to how we were possibly supposed to infer that and from what?
One of my major issues that I don't think is a 'me problem' is linked to that - Klara's ignorance is completely unrealistic. For starters, it doesn't really make sense that she starts off being completely ignorant about the world. Surely, surely, she would be preprogrammed with some basic knowledge about how the world works and the state of humanity at the time. But I do understand it makes for a brilliant perspective to write from if the character is having to learn about the world along with the reader. However, Klara's continued ignorance is completely at odds with her curiosity so it makes absolutely no sense other than as a way to keep the reader in the dark for longer. Secondly, why did none of the other characters have questions when Klara was roping them into her bizarre superstitious schemes? I understand the mentality of "oh well we might as well try it if there's a chance it could help Josie", and even "these robots are super intelligent and might know things we don't about how to help Josie", but surely you would still ask how and why? They all just immediately go along with it.
Overall I was left pretty unsatisfied because it felt like an enormous amount of care and effort had been put into setting up this fascinating world, only to refuse to tell us about it properly. And there wasn't all that much in the plot itself to hold my interest.
I quite enjoyed this. It was a sweet story with some loveable quirky characters, but there was something in the tone which annoyed me - I'm going to say childishness but that's not quite it. I don't know what age group this is intended for but I think it's at least YA rather than kids. Mainly I felt like we were supposed to admire Linus way more than his actions deserved - he'd been part of a cruel and discriminatory system for decades, directly dealing with and deciding the fate of the children caught up in it, and it had never occurred to him that there was something wrong? he never once thought about what happened to the children after he made his decision? Sounds like either a complete moron or someone deliberately turning a blind eye, or both. Then he spends a month in a particular orphanage and suddenly his eyes are opened and he starts behaving vaguely decently, and oh isn't he so wonderful and of course Arthur falls in love with him and blah blah blah. So (a) it was unrealistic that he had such a dramatic change in a month, and (b) the change was still only to meet what I think would be the basic requirements of someone working with vulnerable children.
Aside from all that though, it was actually very readable and well paced, so I enjoyed it despite the things that annoyed me. I liked all the children's characters as well.
This was completely bonkers but I liked it. One of those books that's ostensibly a romance, but really it's a heartwarming story about found family. The time travel bit was ridiculous but a fun way to explore gay history in a story set in the present. I did think the mother got off too lightly though - my read of it was that she was a pretty awful parent and I don't believe in sweeping that under the rug with 'she had a crappy childhood too'.
I have mixed feelings about this book. I think the point it's making is an excellent and important one, but I didn't really get on with the style and structure of the book. In many ways I think it's valuable to have a book like this written by someone who actually went to one of these schools, and has spent many years thinking about and coming to terms with its impact on his psyche. No outsider could possibly have that level of insight. However, it wasn't clear to me what he was actually trying to achieve with this book - it's part memoir, part journalistic style interviewing and recounting recent visits back, and part theoretical essay. Except there was a fair amount of ambiguity in the way the three were mixed up and it all just felt like a long list of random points with whichever of the three he could find to back it up: a story from his own childhood, something someone said to him or a news article he could find, or referring to one of only 5 or 6 sources that he kept coming back to again and again. I'm sorry but there must be more sources on the subject than Hannah Arendt's The Origins of Totalitarianism, one documentary and the Molesworth books. There were also quite a few chapters which were so rambly that I couldn't actually figure out what the overall point was and had to go back to check the helpfully explanatory chapter titles. I just think this could have been a much more powerful book if more thought had been put into its structure.
I know this had a very specific focus on public boarding schools but I really think it could have benefited from some kind of contrast with other types of schools. What about non-boarding private schools? What about grammar schools? A discussion of how these schools fit into the wider picture of the UK education system was sorely lacking, especially as some of the problems he was identifying are present in many other educational settings. Calling for the abolition of public boarding schools without any kind of acknowledgment that the alternatives aren't all sunshine and daisies is very short-sighted. (I feel I should just clarify here that I do of course agree wholeheartedly with his position)
I quite enjoyed this. Sacks has a very engaging writing style and his fascination with the philosophical implications of various neurological disorders is infectious. He really tries to understand how his patients experience the world, and respect for them shines through with every word. A lot of it felt quite dated, sometimes in quite uncomfortable ways, but this was one of the few occasions where I felt fairly confident that it was just a product of the time it was written and if he wrote it today it would be completely PC.
This was so lovely. I literally never read comics/graphic novels etc. - I'm not a particularly visually-oriented person so they've never really appealed. Therefore I basically have no frame of reference and it took me a little while to get into where on the page I was looking and in what order. Once I did though, I really enjoyed it and it felt like the perfect medium for this story. It's a very quick and easy read, with what felt like just the right amount of detail. Each chapter was interspersed with an informative page or two on asexuality without overloading on the terminology, but mostly Burgess just stuck to telling their own story in a really simple and clear way. Hands down the best ace book I've come across.
Despite the title, this is a memoir and it isn't all about asexuality - it gets into peer pressure, OCD, imperfect therapists (bizarre deification of therapists is a real pet peeve of mine), the way that mental health problems can magnify the impact of other stresses, and graduating in the wake of the 2008 financial crisis and peak austerity at its cruellest. It's just the right level of grim though, and ultimately it's a wonderful story about growing up, understanding and accepting yourself, and things turning out alright in the end :)
I have so little artistic knowledge or taste that I really don't feel qualified to comment on the actual illustrations, but for what it's worth I thought they were great and the use of colour was really effective in communicating moods and mood shifts.