The Membranes, a Taiwanese sci-fi classic, was first published in 1995, about a decade after martial law was lifted and people began to experiment with art and literature and, according to the translator, create a kind of punk culture. I strongly recommend reading the translator's notes after finishing the novel — they gave me a much greater appreciation for the book, not only because I then had the background information, but because some of the novel's structural and stylistic choices were explained and discussed. It all kind of came together. In the most clichéd of expressions, my mind kind of exploded. This book is good.
Content warnings: - almost every character is part of the LGBT community - Momo can strongly be read as being aromantic - Momo is also disabled, the survivor of a deadly childhood virus, during which she needed several surgeries and organ transplants - Momo can also strongly be read as being trans ("it was just an annoying bit of flesh")
In the late 21st-century, Momo is the best dermal care technician in T City, one of the many undersea domed cities humanity has now retreated to in the face of climate change. Corporations run the world and function on cyborg slavery. Momo keeps to herself and prefers it that way, but when she meets the mother she hasn't heard from in years, her sense of self, and the world around her, unravels.
I'll be honest, in the beginning and throughout much of the middle, I thought the writing was a bit clumsy, especially the dialogue. But the ideas were haunting. In my notes I have written, "My eyes are wide open, and I'm just over-examining everything, thinking 'what could that mean??'" Even though the book was written in the 90s, the author predicted so much about our current society and technologies correctly, it's wild.
And then in the second half I was convinced the text needed a bit more refining, because it read like a bunch of notes instead of prose — and then I was convinced it was the translation that was clumsy. But reading the translator's notes (because, unfortunately, I blamed the author and the translator for things I should've picked up myself in the text) cleared up why the prose began to unravel into this sort of stream-of-consciousness kind of messy narration, and I began to see the genius of it. While it doesn't seem that way, every detail in this book is very deliberate. It's so difficult not to spoil everything in this review! I'm not even sure what more I can say.
I guess, if you can get a hold of this book, read it!
I read this book at exactly the right time: not only was I starving for a well-written fantasy, but my jasmine flower bloomed the night I began reading!
Representation: - the characters are from a world inspired by India - the two main characters are sapphic (in particular one is a lesbian) - many secondary characters have a fictional disability (thankfully this is resolved in a satisfying way; this is one of my pet peeves)
Princess Malini has been imprisoned by her tyrant of a brother in the top of a ruined temple called the Hirana, a place that was once the source of power for the people they've conquered. Of those, a maidservant named Priya attends Mullaney and prays that no one ever finds out she has a connection to the ancient Hirana that could get her executed. Malini seeks to remove her brother from the throne, and Priya wants to know who she is. When Malini discovers Priya's secret, they both begin to use each other for their own ends, all the while growing closer.
I fell in love with this book right away: the writing style, the atmosphere, the stunning mythology (the deathless waters and the yaksa are my absolute favorite things about this book), and even the maps — it all drew me in. Even before turning the second page I was more excited to get started with this than I've been for a fantasy in a long time. Finally, a thick, dig-your-teeth-into kind of book!
Even better is the promise of morally gray main characters, especially sapphic main characters. And when I finally got that glimpse of desire from both of them — for each other and the desire to use each other for their own ends, I was ecstatic. My excitement was tempered somewhat by the main characters later always having to point out that what they were doing at the moment wasn't "right", which is something I've noticed lately in more recent books. Characters often meant to be morally gray seem to be written with a strong moral center but make their grayish actions very obvious or point them out to the audience, as if telling us, "Look, I'm doing something dubious!" But the skill to write this with more nuance just comes with time. I'm positive that Tasha Suri will hone this soon.
Surprisingly, given the summary and rave reviews, Bhumika, a woman who grew up with Priya and married into the oppressing class, is by far the most interesting and complex character. Although I don't think that the book needs as many povs as it has — some of them seem to serve the purpose of carrying the plot — I'm very glad Bhumika gets her share. Her relationship with Priya is very refreshing; it's nice to have these glimpses behind the annoyed sibling front they put up. It shows a lot of depth.
The characters in this book are well done in general, which makes my annoyance at how the rebels are done stand out even more. The Emperor is the evil villain, almost cartoonishly so: a man who burns women alive, including his sister, and feels no remorse about it, and yet the actual antagonists of this book and the ones who get the most page time, are the rebels who try to oppose him ... the rebels being the people who were almost wiped out by his hand. I wished so badly for this to be a more nuanced issue than it was, with a more complex message than "If you fight fire with fire, then you're just as bad as your enemy."
But overall, this is a wonderful story with a gorgeous mythology and evocative world building. I'm very excited for what comes next.
What a fantastic idea for a cookbook! It would make a great series, going to other countries as well and speaking with other grandmothers (bibis) there the same way it's done here in this book. However, I also appreciate this as a standalone, showcasing these specific, special African countries bordering the Indian Ocean.
These eight countries are Eritrea, Somalia, Kenya, Tanzania, Mozambique, South Africa, Madagascar, and Comoros. Because they all border the Indian Ocean, they all had been the backbone of the spice trade. Which makes them all have rich and unique cuisines.
This book is also a wonderful mini-lesson in colonialism, culture, tradition, and history, because the recipes have as equal weight as the stories about and from the bibis themselves. Getting these recipes from the bibis makes them less about food that's trendy and Instagrammable, which is an unbelievable breath of fresh air. They talk about how important it is that food keeps their tradition and cultures intact. It all feels very genuine. And not only that, but the food sounds and looks delicious! This is one cookbook I'm going to have to buy when I have the money.
This is one of the most original novels I've ever read, and it's definitely the best romance novel I've ever read. I'm not a huge fan of these, but if people write more like this one, I may just change my opinion.
Representation: - both protagonists are sapphic - one of the protagonists is a person of color
Two sides fight a war using time and potential futures, trying to win the best possible future for themselves. What begins as an agent from one side writing a mocking letter to another on the opposite side ends with both of them falling in love. But in this war in which winning means losing a love, is it possible to find a happy outcome?
I don't think I've ever read an epistolary novel … it gets a bit tedious, to be honest, but perhaps that's just because I'm not used to it. That said, I fell in love with the writing style(s) at the very first line. And there are some absolutely gorgeous lines, too — my favorite being "I want to meet you in every place I ever loved." The main characters also give us information about things, even about themselves, at a very satisfyingly slow rate. It's a good way to keep the interest up.
Another interesting thing about this book is the lack of any described setting, or not much of it. Another reviewer said it very well (and I can't remember who it was, sorry!): "We never get a setting, because the setting doesn't matter. This is, in essence, a pure romance book." What matters is not the war around them, but the relationship developing between these two agents themselves.
I do wish, however, that the two leads had more distinct voices. I don't doubt that they're two different people, Red being a robot or cyborg who's kind of stiff and not used to being social, and Blue being an organic shape-shifting creature with a sense of humor and a love for pop culture. But very little of this comes through the actual language of the letters themselves. I don't think I could tell their voices apart if I was shown an example (which is funny, because each author wrote a different character — they work really well together!).
Afterthoughts: after sitting on this for a couple months, I think one of the reasons people love this book so much is that apart from 2-3 character traits, the MCs don't really have fully fleshed personalities to distinguish them. In this way, it's easy to project onto them as a sort of wish fulfillment. And this isn't a criticism. Because this book is so unique, I think it works here.
Ugh, spent an hour on this review and it deleted it all.
What I'll say quickly is that I thought this fits far more into the YA category, with its tone, narrator, and themes. I found it a bit clumsy, and it had no variation in pacing. It's not for me, and I won't read on, but for those who are looking for fast-paced sci-fi that perhaps bridges YA and adult, this would be a good one to try.
Oh, this is a perfect read for autumn (I read it back in November, but autumn is never really over in my heart). Through the Woods is a collection of five chilling short stories told in graphic novel format. It's classified as horror, and while some of these really do send chills up my spine that keep spinning around my mind after reading, others were more folky ghost tales, which is just fine for a collection like this, too. Variety is good!
Representation: - in "The Nesting Place", the protagonist uses a cane and has a leg brace
This is one of the most gorgeous graphic novels I've ever seen. I think I say that about almost every one that I read, but this one really stands out with its bicolor schemes and the quality of the book in general. The pages are large and heavy with a wonderful thickness. The art style reminds me of Over the Garden Wall in a way (maybe because of the folk horror), but each of the four short stories are differentiated by little stylistic differences and color palette changes.
It also turns out that I was one of the many who had seen and enjoyed Emily Carroll's "His Face All Red" when she posted it online years before she got published. I'm glad for it, too, because that's probably the reason this ended up on my to-read list.
1). Our Neighbor's House: I love the style for this one! The story is very loosely based on The Red Riding Hood, and a father leaves his three daughters and tells them to go to their neighbor's house if he doesn't come back in three days. Of course he doesn't return, and someone terrifying is waiting for each of the girls. It's a bit predictable, but it has a suitable ending.
2). A Lady's Hands Are Cold: Good god. The author definitely did a good job grossing me out with the eating scene, and I was gagging. But I'm not sure I like this twist on the Bluebeard tale, even if I think that the style and the art quality, as always, is expertly done.
3). His Face All Red: This was the comic I had seen online. I'm still haunted by it today. That ending still gives me shivers. Two brothers go out to hunt a monster, and only one returns — the younger, jealous brother killed the older one. But then the older brother mysteriously returns.
4). My Friend Janna: In this story two friends con folks by pretending to be psychic and speaking with the dead. I didn't like this one as much; the ending was fairly predictable in a way I found corny, and it didn't draw out any strong emotions from me.
5). The Nesting Place: This one is grotesquely terrifying. The ending is horrifying, but probably also predictable to those who read horror more frequently. I don't, so it freaked me out thoroughly. The body horror is absolutely disgusting.
I also loved the very tiny In Conclusion comic, too. It's a chilling spin on "you only need one yes". All in all, I think I loved the art far more than I did the actual stories, and reading this at night probably improved my opinion of it. But I look forward to what Emily Carroll creates next.
I have such conflicting emotions and opinions about this one. This review is going to be all over the place! For the first fifty pages I adored it … and then I swung to the other extreme. It's clear that Ling Ma can write, because certain passages just knifed my heart, but at other times the writing felt a lot less polished. I'm so torn!
Representation: - the protagonist is Chinese American
Candace Chen, lover of routine, is hardly concerned when a new plague called Shen Fever spreads through New York City. While everyone else evacuates the city, Candace stays behind to update a hobby photography blog with details about what's happening — a blog that soon goes viral. When she can no longer hold out on her own, she is picked up by a band of survivors led by a suspicious former IT tech who promises he knows a place where they can all start over fresh. But Candace is wary of his similarity to past cult leaders, and she must decide whether to stay with his group or risk surviving on her own again.
Initially, I was struck by the writing style; it's very beautiful and unique. I'm also usually a sucker for books without quotation marks, because that often means that is written with a distinct style in mind, not just written to be pictured like a movie. However, I didn't feel that in this particular case it added anything to the book. The style did work in the beginning, in the present-tense sections, because it's so philosophical and meandering and reflective. But when the POV switches to the sections taking place in the past, it reads like any other contemporary lit, and I don't see any reason them for such a stylized choice.
I also feel a little lost when it comes to the actual Shen Fever itself. If it's (actually) a fungal disease, how does it spread? The survivors we follow use masks and gloves while in Fevered houses, but if they're taking things, that doesn't seem like enough protection, right? But this disease is also kind of not "literally" a disease, if I'm interpreting this right, so that might not even matter.
The book is definitely about capitalism, and about the unnatural and often isolated routines capitalism forces us to fall into, but unfortunately it delivers this message with a very unsubtle hand. All of the brand names very liberally peppered into the prose got old quickly, and it wasn't all that clear as to what it added — unless it was to highlight Candace's character in particular. There was this underlying critique of millennials (and "millennial culture"), which I didn't understand, because it was so different to my life and the lives of my own millennial friends. So to me it felt more like an outsider taking shots at my generation using stereotypes. However, Ling Ma is also a millennial, so who knows? My friends and I could be the outliers.
However, she definitely has talent. She can write when she wants to. There was a moment when I was so affected by the story and the writing that I had to stop reading and just take it all in for a moment. There's no doubt that I need to read what else she's written, or what else she'll write next, because although this novel isn't for me, it's well written.
This is a massive anthology by Tor (obviously), a publisher I've recently come to appreciate, which feels incredibly belated, because Tor has been fantastic for a very long time now. Anyway, there are a whopping 40 short works in this collection, ranging from light fantasy to the hardest of sci-fi.
As always with anthologies, some stories are excellent and/or spoke to me, while others miss the mark. I might go and review some of the shorts that I especially love — or that I have on my to-read list, but trying to review them all would be ulcer-inducing.
Very few authors have more than one story, so it was wonderful finding new talent to later check out in more depth. I have one complaint, though: all the big-name authors that they advertise on the cover have stories in the first half ... and the second half drags a bit. Did they just want to make sure people read the more well-known or award-winning stories first in case they DNF'd it?
Highlights for me from this collection: - The Vector Alphabet of Interstellar Travel by Yoon Ha Lee - Elephants and Corpses by Kameron Hurley - Reborn by Ken Liu - The Lady Astronaut of Mars by Mary Robinette Kowal
Representation: - the protagonist is sapphic and has anxiety - the love interest is black, non-binary, and sapphic
An elderly customer at an IKEA-like store goes missing through a multidimensional portal, and it's up to two employees, who recently became exes, to track her down. To do it, they'll have to avoid man-eating furniture, swarms of clones, and — if possible — repair their friendship if they stand a chance of succeeding.
In the acknowledgments, Nino Cipri says that they initially wrote this as a screenplay, which tells me a lot about the stylistic choices that I perhaps found too dramatic. I can actually see it doing very well as a movie — in a way that I didn't enjoy it as much in this format.
As it is, I think the biggest problem I have with this novella is that it feels miscategorized. It almost seems more fitting for the young adult category rather than the adult. That's not to say the writing is "bad" or that the story is immature, but that the characters and especially the dialogue can be very dramatic, which lends itself better to YA fiction. The book is filled with fandom jokes, quippy one-liners, and adults who read more like teenagers. There was one part, too, where the internal monologue seemed directly ripped from a tumblr post — I remember reading it a few years ago.
But it's not what I would expect from adult science fiction, and it's definitely not what I would hope from a Hugo award winner. I was hoping for a scathing critique of capitalism, but what I read was "'Capitalism,' Jules says philosophically. "'Yep.'" It reads more like pseudo-activists trying to say all the right buzzwords rather than two characters having a meaningful exchange.
In terms of plot, this book moves very quickly, and it keeps your attention the entire time. There are a couple spots where I had to suspend my disbelief quite a bit (like the main character Ava having to carry an unconscious woman on her back while sprinting), but it's an easy and fast read.
The other big problem I had with the story, though — and something I hoped Cipri wouldn't do — was make the woman who initially lost her grandma, Uzmala, either a) not recognize Uzmala, even with the new accent she must have (because how can she not? English isn't even her first language) or b) the granddaughter is absolutely okay with this woman who isn't her grandma but who apparently just shares her genetic material. Is that all that makes a person? Uzmala is going to tell her the truth "eventually". If I was the granddaughter I would be livid. I hate that story choice.
However, despite all this, the last chapter in particular was great and contains the best writing in the book. I also adore Uzmala. She is hands down the best character in this entire thing, and I have no complaints about her whatsoever. I'm considering reading on just because of her, even though the second book might not even have her in it. I want to see what other kinds of characters Nino Cipri can create.