Shockingly poorly-written and rushed, “The New Silk Roads” fails to live up to the insightfulness of its excellent predecessor. Frankopan clearly is better suited to writing history rather than recounting recent events: unfortunately, developments in Central Asia from 2015 to 2018 make up the bulk of the book with little more analysis than a simple news recap. If you’re looking for a summary piece on the rise of the East during precisely these years, there is perhaps no better resource. I say those years because “The New Silk Roads” has aged astonishingly in just a little more than three years. Some of the tidbits of info are simply irrelevant due to the chaos of recent years. This outdatedness isn’t Frankopan’s fault; however, for a book which attempts to glean some insight into the future of shifting global powers it loses most of its appeal. At times it feels like barely-significant events are shoved in to fit into a hardly fleshed-out narrative.
MURAKAMI CANNOT WRITE WOMEN. Like, seriously. His depiction of women, whom—unlike the other books of his I read—take up most of the energy in this book, is horrendous. They don’t feel like real characters. They feel like manic pixie dream girls envisioned by a man who doesn’t interact with women. And maybe that adds to the naïve narration of Toru, but some scenes are truly disgusting and quite frankly irredeemable. It’s a shame, since otherwise the prose is magnificently-written and immersive. The Murakami charm is definitely there: I felt like I was drawn into late 1960s Japan and could relate to the wistfulness of young adulthood portrayed. Unfortunately, the way in which women are portrayed in this book make “Norwegian Wood” one of my least-favourites from Murakami.
A shocking, sad book. Really covers a breadth of issues facing women today. The breadth is so vast that sometimes coherency is sacrificed to cram in loosely related facts and figures. It is, however, wonderfully researched and an informative read.
Really don’t get the hype. I understand there’s always natural intrigue towards the scandal of the elite classes, especially in the swaggy and sophisticated 1920s, but I find it hard to care about these entitled and privileged assholes moaning about how hard it is to be exorbitantly wealthy and powerful. I suppose that feeling is deliberate, however the mystery surrounding Gatsby is so artificial it’s burdensome. The novel also starts off frustratingly slow-paced ends breathlessly fast with little resolution. I guess the Roaring 20s vibes are vaguely nostalgic or melancholic for some?
I consider myself to be an obscenely obsessed political junkie and even I learned something from this informative book. Klein’s writing is refreshingly honest and perfect for those already acquainted with American politics. Be warned, as Klein himself admits, this book is more of a diagnosis than a prescription.
It is easy to see the rich historical significance and cultural heritage of this book. It examines Okonkwo, a man who is deeply cynical of his own masculinity and belonging in a rapidly changing society. Although Things Fall Apart begins fairly slowly, the latter two parts pick up in terms of plot progression: after Okonkwo is exiled from his fatherland for seven years he returns to a society which relentlessly challenges him. Colonialism is examined from an African perspective ; Achebe was one of the pioneers of 20th century African literature and provides immense insight into this period.
Brilliant work by Kim Thúy. I can only imagine the beauty of the work in its original French. Even in its translated version the prose stands out as particularly gorgeous. In a very staccato-like fashion Vietnamese history is traversed with a compelling cast of characters with short, blunt paragraphs. Sometimes I find narrative disjunction to be annoying or pretentious, here it perfectly emulates the messiness of reality and this tragic period. The craft in “Em” is simply superb and merits a read, if not a reread.
Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
4.0
The language of this book is just so amazing. The prose alone vaunts it to exceptional, although the plot can be somewhat aimless and bare. Jesmyn Ward writes beautifully.