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lydiogames's reviews
8 reviews
Cold Enough for Snow by Jessica Au
reflective
fast-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? Yes
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.5
decieved me at first, really impressively transforms a very simple sense of prose into something almost hypnotic -- stream of conscious and yet focused and attuned to so many little sensitivies in moments past and present. can still wonder if perhaps Au is ultimately flying under the radar a little too much, sparking the worry that this needs a little More, but as it stands it's frequently surprising in how touching it managed to be. engaging, works really well as a sort of connective web for a series of vignettes and short stories without feeling like it's a conscious choice; evades a lot of structural and narrative pitfalls and does ultimately create something unlike much else that I've ever read.
Grapefruit: A Book of Instructions and Drawings by Yoko Ono by Yoko Ono
adventurous
challenging
funny
hopeful
lighthearted
reflective
fast-paced
4.5
no slander accepted. there's a little too much that feels a little supplementary, (in that I don't really need to see Mrs Ono break-down financial costs), but the real core of this work is full of such exciting, interesting pieces of writing that can legitimately inspire THOUGHT. and that's what Yoko is to me, despite common pretentions in avant-garde circles I think she's often still very grounded in the literal and the emotional and her feminist, feminine, perspective feels omnipresent and provides such a glow. she cares. and she wants you to care and she wants you to think.
special mentions go to Concert Piece, Hide and Seek Piece, Voice Piece for Soprano, Mirror Piece, and Air Talk.
special mentions go to Concert Piece, Hide and Seek Piece, Voice Piece for Soprano, Mirror Piece, and Air Talk.
Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger
reflective
sad
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
4.0
Franny is maybe the greatest thing I've ever read; very much has THE voice that I wish I possessed -- Salinger's skills in characterisation, providing personality, (and just excellent prose), are otherworldly. surprising considering how down to earth this is. few characters in any medium have spoken to me the way that Franny has and Salinger navigates her collapse so delicately, so impressively, that I read the whole thing twice back to back.
Zooey however is just... notably not as good. feels more intended as a play potentially, loooooong passages of uninterrupted dialogue, points spanning literal pages, with someone notably less endearing over almost triple the page count. there's still a skill in developing the people like this but it's drawn out and, spoken from a point of view rather than something omniscient, the quality just of the writing, the words, just isn't on par with what we'd just been treated to before. good enough but certainly sour. read this for Franny and you won't regret it.
Zooey however is just... notably not as good. feels more intended as a play potentially, loooooong passages of uninterrupted dialogue, points spanning literal pages, with someone notably less endearing over almost triple the page count. there's still a skill in developing the people like this but it's drawn out and, spoken from a point of view rather than something omniscient, the quality just of the writing, the words, just isn't on par with what we'd just been treated to before. good enough but certainly sour. read this for Franny and you won't regret it.
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath
challenging
dark
reflective
sad
slow-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Character
- Strong character development? It's complicated
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.5
ugh. had actually entirely forgotten that I'd even read this despite it being quite a short time ago, and that I've read very little else in all the time around it. I'm sympathetic, and do think that Plath has such a legitimate knack for encapsulating so many minute instances of how depression and mental health can disrupt your thinking, abilities, your life, et al. especially in regards to that alienating haunting loneliness -- there's some passages here that are just written terrifically; Esther's illness in the middle of the night and her lack of connection in New York really spoke to me and pulled me into the print. and, of course, there's also the famed fig tree metaphor that encapsulates so many frustrations about womanhood and simply living.
and yet, for as good as this book often proved to be, in equal parts it frustrated, disappointed and discouraged. simply, if the chapter isn't working, each page turned felt like a conscious and deliberate effort to continue, an almost sisyphean task. sometimes a chapter might not work because it's simply, luck of the draw, one of the less good ones, and othertimes it's a consequence of Plath's seemingly constant racism and homophobia. there's a hangup to be had about Plath's terminally middle-class, white feminism regardless, in The Bell Jar and in her poetry, but Esther, the author's avatar, frequently engages in comments about "smudgy eyed Chinese women", "look[ing] like a sick Indian", "ugly as Aztecs", and even beating a black nurse with cartoonishly stereotypical features. and this thing was published in 1963, in the midst of the civil rights movement. it's hard to stomach because it's such an unrepenting and unapologetic display of flat-out vulgarity and inelegance from someone we're so desperately supposed to feel empathy, sympathy, connection to and support for. and again, this is called semi-autobiographical.
ultimately just not very pleasant and an unbalanced experience. frankly far less interested in the stuff outside of New York too. but it's so clearly ahead of its time in many ways and there is a real tragedy in knowing there's legitimate suicide following. both a great book and a pretty terrible one interchangeably, simultaneously.
and yet, for as good as this book often proved to be, in equal parts it frustrated, disappointed and discouraged. simply, if the chapter isn't working, each page turned felt like a conscious and deliberate effort to continue, an almost sisyphean task. sometimes a chapter might not work because it's simply, luck of the draw, one of the less good ones, and othertimes it's a consequence of Plath's seemingly constant racism and homophobia. there's a hangup to be had about Plath's terminally middle-class, white feminism regardless, in The Bell Jar and in her poetry, but Esther, the author's avatar, frequently engages in comments about "smudgy eyed Chinese women", "look[ing] like a sick Indian", "ugly as Aztecs", and even beating a black nurse with cartoonishly stereotypical features. and this thing was published in 1963, in the midst of the civil rights movement. it's hard to stomach because it's such an unrepenting and unapologetic display of flat-out vulgarity and inelegance from someone we're so desperately supposed to feel empathy, sympathy, connection to and support for. and again, this is called semi-autobiographical.
ultimately just not very pleasant and an unbalanced experience. frankly far less interested in the stuff outside of New York too. but it's so clearly ahead of its time in many ways and there is a real tragedy in knowing there's legitimate suicide following. both a great book and a pretty terrible one interchangeably, simultaneously.
Play It as It Lays by Joan Didion
4.0
oftentimes pretty excellent, served as a welcome and fitting introduction to Didion and her work even if she's more acclaimed for her essay work. her voice has such confidence and, having read The White Album after this, I much prefer her vocabulary and approach here. Interestingly structured, in narrative and form, sometimes it works, othertimes not really. I think some chapters being, maybe, 5 lines of dialogue long provides some real moments of gravitas but in other instances I'm worried that she's wasting paper. The non-linear approach works in terms of benefitting how Didion writes but I don't think it necessarily adds to the book's actual strengths. would hesitate to describe it as confusing or hard to follow but there's a definite lack of clarity at times that threw me off at times.
but really full of excellent, memorable passages. Maria's dream of miscarriage with the white sheets is such an instantaneous, total knockout. immediate and strong contender for one of my favourite chapters I've ever read in anything ever. thematically the notions of chance and the jaded nihilism aren't hugely, consistently, explored, but there's a lovely lingering sense of sadness all the way throughout that really keeps this thing going. lots to recommend.
but really full of excellent, memorable passages. Maria's dream of miscarriage with the white sheets is such an instantaneous, total knockout. immediate and strong contender for one of my favourite chapters I've ever read in anything ever. thematically the notions of chance and the jaded nihilism aren't hugely, consistently, explored, but there's a lovely lingering sense of sadness all the way throughout that really keeps this thing going. lots to recommend.
The White Album by Joan Didion
3.5
undeniably a mixed bag, was happy to head into this following a strong appreciation for Play It as it Lays, and I think the total character of Didion's voice remains intact, if not amplified by being truly able to speak through herself, but I felt inherently just... more interested by some essays over others. occasionally she'll describe the features of the Hoover Dam (for example) in almost ridiculous detail that, to me, almost felt like she's trying to show off and flex the extent of her vocabulary more or less for the sake of it. it's a small gripe, but I found her to be by far her most affecting and effective when allowing herself to be restrained, working a little more simply and direct, because she has such a forceful sense of personality that's really always present and never close to criticisable.
what is, however, is, more than others, basically the entirety of the section on women. her (surprising, given how "hip" her popular image is,) conservative traits really do rear their head here. seems to carry much an attitude of disliking the women's rights movement (and by extension Marxism) for acknowledging the fundamental state of oppression and its forms, rather than the lack of productivity that she seems to mention more often. an "I did it, why can't you?" mentality of sorts that's inherently dated and dampens a fair bit -- especially when she follows from the women's movement to a pretty heavy critique of Doris Lessing (a communist)'s work for seemingly little reason, and then praising the works of Georgie O'Keefe for her percieved "hardness", an attitude that she explicitly compares to a "don't tread on me".
but it's really fascinating otherwise to just spend time listening to Joan. Holy Water isn't just about the simple mechanics of Californian irrigation, it's an exploration of what it means to have power. to control water in the desert. and Joan's honesty in total admiration of that power makes her such a compelling, interesting figure, warts and all. she's a really great writer and I'm excited to return to her works in the future, though I'm perhaps beginning to fear that I'll get more out of her fiction than non-.
what is, however, is, more than others, basically the entirety of the section on women. her (surprising, given how "hip" her popular image is,) conservative traits really do rear their head here. seems to carry much an attitude of disliking the women's rights movement (and by extension Marxism) for acknowledging the fundamental state of oppression and its forms, rather than the lack of productivity that she seems to mention more often. an "I did it, why can't you?" mentality of sorts that's inherently dated and dampens a fair bit -- especially when she follows from the women's movement to a pretty heavy critique of Doris Lessing (a communist)'s work for seemingly little reason, and then praising the works of Georgie O'Keefe for her percieved "hardness", an attitude that she explicitly compares to a "don't tread on me".
but it's really fascinating otherwise to just spend time listening to Joan. Holy Water isn't just about the simple mechanics of Californian irrigation, it's an exploration of what it means to have power. to control water in the desert. and Joan's honesty in total admiration of that power makes her such a compelling, interesting figure, warts and all. she's a really great writer and I'm excited to return to her works in the future, though I'm perhaps beginning to fear that I'll get more out of her fiction than non-.
Blood in the Garden: The Flagrant History of the 1990s New York Knicks by Chris Herring
fast-paced
4.5
inherent bias as a devotee to the orange and blue be damned, just excellent text that I continued to tear through in record time. obsessively turning pages and continuing to explore my favourite era of New York basketball even if I wasn't there to witness it (born in 98 AND in the UK, I've CHOSEN this life). imperfect but plenty insightful. for every story I knew there'd be a quote or paragraphs of context new to me with an excellent narrative construction around so many key moments and events in Knicks history, on and off the court. Pat the Rat's made a sympathetic figure as a victim of an eternal, relentless anxiety and compulsion to win, but Herring doesn't hold any punches when detailing his departure for the sunny sands of Miami and all the control he'd wished for. Likewise, the moments we knew were coming, the heartaches, the pains, Starks shooting 2-18 and Riley's stubbornness with substitution, are painted with a focused, dedicated, sense of consideration and perspective. and with each pang, the horror as you hear about the Charles Smith game, you re-live the moment so vividly and viciously. this thing made me feel sick in all the best ways. and quite frankly it could have been twice as long.
exorbitant praise from me but does fall just a little shy from a full 5. think it's literally down to the simple fact that sometimes I knew even MORE than what was being written at times (infrequently, I hate to pretend I know more than Herring at all), whether it was an occasional glossing over this or that, there's just a lingering nagging knowing there's a little more to mine here. deserves the acclaim though and I'm happy as hell to have read it. we're getting Ewing that ring somehow boys.
exorbitant praise from me but does fall just a little shy from a full 5. think it's literally down to the simple fact that sometimes I knew even MORE than what was being written at times (infrequently, I hate to pretend I know more than Herring at all), whether it was an occasional glossing over this or that, there's just a lingering nagging knowing there's a little more to mine here. deserves the acclaim though and I'm happy as hell to have read it. we're getting Ewing that ring somehow boys.
The House of Hunger by Dambudzo Marechera
challenging
dark
slow-paced
- Strong character development? No
- Loveable characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? Yes
2.5
sometimes you've got to know when you're beat and this thing just isn't for me I think. a vital and important read with real things to say but ultimately far too fractured in its prose and perspective to ever feel like a comfortable read. and sure, that's partly the point, but Marechera is clearly guided by superb writing talent and demonstrates real flashes of both fascinating prose and mind opening symbolism, metaphor, observation. it's instead left feeling inescapably messy, dictated with some awkward turns of phrase and text (that I have to assume are simply the result of Zimbabwean dialect, totally happy to admit it's not my place to knock that, but it doesn't help on top of such a push-pull series of events). and god does this get repetitive. feels like there's a near endless description of beatings happening one after the other with much of the same actions and metaphors over and over ("stains!", "crushed my face"). unfortunately just held a little too distant from the "I" of the novel and the frequent disparaging of women and feminine characteristics that seem pretty deeply ingrained with little meaningful reflection or even a real personable quality, just frequent and simple acknowledgements of it.
still though, can recognise the strengths of this thing and to an extent I completely understand all of the acclaim; much more of a me thing. it's impressive all the same, and did truly start off strong, but lost me and lost me further as things continued.
still though, can recognise the strengths of this thing and to an extent I completely understand all of the acclaim; much more of a me thing. it's impressive all the same, and did truly start off strong, but lost me and lost me further as things continued.