Take a photo of a barcode or cover
sdwoodchuck's reviews
75 reviews
Nip the Buds, Shoot the Kids by Kenzaburō Ōe
A group of delinquent boys in wartime Japan try to navigate disease, injury, and malnutrition in a country being torn apart both from without and within.
Remarkable both for its compassion and its steely-eyed resolve to depict the absolute worst in humanity, and the sensory experience of coming of age in a kind of hell. It's the sort of novel I respect more than enjoy, and will certainly never read it again, but it crams so much impressive imagery into its tiny page count.
4.0
A group of delinquent boys in wartime Japan try to navigate disease, injury, and malnutrition in a country being torn apart both from without and within.
Remarkable both for its compassion and its steely-eyed resolve to depict the absolute worst in humanity, and the sensory experience of coming of age in a kind of hell. It's the sort of novel I respect more than enjoy, and will certainly never read it again, but it crams so much impressive imagery into its tiny page count.
Hummingbird Salamander by Jeff VanderMeer
A security consultant calling herself only "Jane Doe" is given a lead by a barista, and finds herself drawn into a web of animal trafficking, environmental activism, and eco-terrorism set against the backdrop of a world facing a looming pandemic and crossing the tipping point of climate change.
This reads as a noir detective story, and one that doesn't even really feel like SF until about the last 10%. Once it crosses into that final stretch though, the tone of the entire work begins to take on the feeling of spiraling toward the beginning of a post-apocalypse (though whether its outcome is actually apocalyptic is ambiguous), which I guess makes it a Pre-Apocalyptic Eco-Noir, which is a strange genre designation. Regardless, I think I wound up liking it more as a result of that than I did during the process of reading it.
3.75
A security consultant calling herself only "Jane Doe" is given a lead by a barista, and finds herself drawn into a web of animal trafficking, environmental activism, and eco-terrorism set against the backdrop of a world facing a looming pandemic and crossing the tipping point of climate change.
This reads as a noir detective story, and one that doesn't even really feel like SF until about the last 10%. Once it crosses into that final stretch though, the tone of the entire work begins to take on the feeling of spiraling toward the beginning of a post-apocalypse (though whether its outcome is actually apocalyptic is ambiguous), which I guess makes it a Pre-Apocalyptic Eco-Noir, which is a strange genre designation. Regardless, I think I wound up liking it more as a result of that than I did during the process of reading it.
Finch by Jeff VanderMeer
Horror/noir set more than a hundred years after the events of the earlier Ambergris books, Finch tells the story of a detective working in a city overrun by the vicious ambulatory mushrooms known as the Greycaps, and his attempts to do right by himself and those around him--and maybe, eventually, the city as a whole, if he can manage to sort out right from wrong.
This is the least of the Ambergris books for me, and I think the biggest reason is that the humor is almost absent, and that's such a distinctive element of the Ambergris experience for me. The noir elements are fine; the horror is effective, and the world is well-realized, but I just never quite felt myself drawn in. This perhaps comes across more negative than I really feel about it, because I did still enjoy it, but it's hard not to see it in the context of the step down it is from the earlier novels.
3.5
Horror/noir set more than a hundred years after the events of the earlier Ambergris books, Finch tells the story of a detective working in a city overrun by the vicious ambulatory mushrooms known as the Greycaps, and his attempts to do right by himself and those around him--and maybe, eventually, the city as a whole, if he can manage to sort out right from wrong.
This is the least of the Ambergris books for me, and I think the biggest reason is that the humor is almost absent, and that's such a distinctive element of the Ambergris experience for me. The noir elements are fine; the horror is effective, and the world is well-realized, but I just never quite felt myself drawn in. This perhaps comes across more negative than I really feel about it, because I did still enjoy it, but it's hard not to see it in the context of the step down it is from the earlier novels.
Shriek: An Afterword by Jeff VanderMeer
The second book in the Ambergris trilogy picks up from the Brief History of Ambergris short story from the previous collection, and expands on the life and relationships of the footnote-fetishist historian Duncan Shriek, as told by his sister Janice.
The previous City of Saints and Madmen is among my favorite books, and far and away my favorite of Vandermeer, so this had a lot to live up to, and mostly succeeded. It's not as strong as the earlier book, but it's quite good, and continues the excellent balancing act of humor and horror. The dual narrators in the audiobook format is used to great effect here, with Cassandra narrating the text written by Janice and Bronson Pinchot narrating the footnotes added by Duncan, with the two able to capture the exasperation and admiration of sibling relationships remarkably well.
4.0
The second book in the Ambergris trilogy picks up from the Brief History of Ambergris short story from the previous collection, and expands on the life and relationships of the footnote-fetishist historian Duncan Shriek, as told by his sister Janice.
The previous City of Saints and Madmen is among my favorite books, and far and away my favorite of Vandermeer, so this had a lot to live up to, and mostly succeeded. It's not as strong as the earlier book, but it's quite good, and continues the excellent balancing act of humor and horror. The dual narrators in the audiobook format is used to great effect here, with Cassandra narrating the text written by Janice and Bronson Pinchot narrating the footnotes added by Duncan, with the two able to capture the exasperation and admiration of sibling relationships remarkably well.
Timescape by Gregory Benford
Written in 1980, Timescape imagines the distant future of the year 1998, with the planet in the thick of an environmental crisis. Physicists working in Cambridge discover a method of using tachyons to send messages back in time to 1963, with the hope of scientists finding solutions that will mitigate the harm, and hopefully prevent an even greater catastrophe.
It's the rare case where I like the science-driven plot, but don't have much patience for the characters. A collection of broken romantic relationships that contribute very little and some goofy attitudes toward women and sex hamstring the momentum, but wrestling with the core problem of potential paradox and a surprisingly engaging academic politics subplot in the 1960's timeline won me over to a generally positive feeling on it, if only by a narrow margin.
3.25
Written in 1980, Timescape imagines the distant future of the year 1998, with the planet in the thick of an environmental crisis. Physicists working in Cambridge discover a method of using tachyons to send messages back in time to 1963, with the hope of scientists finding solutions that will mitigate the harm, and hopefully prevent an even greater catastrophe.
It's the rare case where I like the science-driven plot, but don't have much patience for the characters. A collection of broken romantic relationships that contribute very little and some goofy attitudes toward women and sex hamstring the momentum, but wrestling with the core problem of potential paradox and a surprisingly engaging academic politics subplot in the 1960's timeline won me over to a generally positive feeling on it, if only by a narrow margin.
Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury
Guy Montag is a fireman, which means when his station gets a call, they rush out and set fire to the house of any misguided soul foolish enough to keep books. But Guy is starting to feel wrong about everything, and the world is no longer making sense to him, and to his own dismay, he's hiding books in his own home.
This is a reread for me with my book club, and it's hard to talk about this book without being in the shadow of its reputation. Bradbury can--and does!--take crossing the street, and turn it into a nightmarish hellscape of vague impressions and wild sprinting and racing heartbeat, and the whole thing feels effortless. Something really great here.
Its reputation is earned.
4.5
Guy Montag is a fireman, which means when his station gets a call, they rush out and set fire to the house of any misguided soul foolish enough to keep books. But Guy is starting to feel wrong about everything, and the world is no longer making sense to him, and to his own dismay, he's hiding books in his own home.
This is a reread for me with my book club, and it's hard to talk about this book without being in the shadow of its reputation. Bradbury can--and does!--take crossing the street, and turn it into a nightmarish hellscape of vague impressions and wild sprinting and racing heartbeat, and the whole thing feels effortless. Something really great here.
Its reputation is earned.
The Kaiju Preservation Society by John Scalzi
Jamie Gray is fired from her executive position in a food delivery business, and forced to take up food delivery herself, but a chance meeting with an old acquaintance sets her on a new path working for a shady secret organization that travels to a parallel universe's Earth to study Kaiju.
The concept is fun, the plot moves quick and breezy, and while it stays in its element, it's a good time, even if a fairly unmemorable one. Unfortunately, it has a bad habit of getting bogged down in banter and self-reference, so it does not stay in its element for long. Jamie is told that she's going to be in logistics, and that she's qualified so long as she can lift things. After this she frequently makes dry jokes about her job being "lifting things," to the tune of at least a dozen times in 250 pages. There's also some really bad tonal dissonance in the later chapters, where serious elements of the story are badly undermined by the character banter continuing as though nothing has changed. If that doesn't dissuade you, you'll probably find a lot to like here, and let me be clear, I still found quite a bit to like as well. But I also found it very frustrating, and it feels more like a product than a story the author was passionate about telling.
3.25
Jamie Gray is fired from her executive position in a food delivery business, and forced to take up food delivery herself, but a chance meeting with an old acquaintance sets her on a new path working for a shady secret organization that travels to a parallel universe's Earth to study Kaiju.
The concept is fun, the plot moves quick and breezy, and while it stays in its element, it's a good time, even if a fairly unmemorable one. Unfortunately, it has a bad habit of getting bogged down in banter and self-reference, so it does not stay in its element for long. Jamie is told that she's going to be in logistics, and that she's qualified so long as she can lift things. After this she frequently makes dry jokes about her job being "lifting things," to the tune of at least a dozen times in 250 pages. There's also some really bad tonal dissonance in the later chapters, where serious elements of the story are badly undermined by the character banter continuing as though nothing has changed. If that doesn't dissuade you, you'll probably find a lot to like here, and let me be clear, I still found quite a bit to like as well. But I also found it very frustrating, and it feels more like a product than a story the author was passionate about telling.
2312 by Kim Stanley Robinson
Alex, the Lion of Mercury is dead, and her position in the middle of a web of political intrigue both makes that death somewhat suspicious, and leaves several colonies around the solar system in tenuous positions. Her grieving granddaughter Swan and former colleagues Wahram and Genette begin trying to get Alex's efforts in order, and then to get to the bottom of the strange and dangerous events happening around them.
This is my first Kim Stanley Robinson novel, and I'd been warned that his characters are cardboard. For what it's worth, I don't quite agree here. Oh, the dialogue isn't great, and there's elements that never quite land for me, but so much of what drives the story here is the interiority of the characters, in a way that really works for me. Unfortunately, the plot moves in fits and starts, and never really feels like it settles into a rhythm that works. There are some truly breathtaking segments here though, including an opening detailing the people in perpetual nomadic travel around Mercury's surface, always staying in the twilight between merciless day and night. There's also some really fuckin' goofy romance subplot, and a ton of digressing into worldbuilding details, which makes it hard to evaluate both because they're frustrating and usually fascinating.
Overall Grade: B+, but a few segments really make me wish I could give it an A+.
3.75
Alex, the Lion of Mercury is dead, and her position in the middle of a web of political intrigue both makes that death somewhat suspicious, and leaves several colonies around the solar system in tenuous positions. Her grieving granddaughter Swan and former colleagues Wahram and Genette begin trying to get Alex's efforts in order, and then to get to the bottom of the strange and dangerous events happening around them.
This is my first Kim Stanley Robinson novel, and I'd been warned that his characters are cardboard. For what it's worth, I don't quite agree here. Oh, the dialogue isn't great, and there's elements that never quite land for me, but so much of what drives the story here is the interiority of the characters, in a way that really works for me. Unfortunately, the plot moves in fits and starts, and never really feels like it settles into a rhythm that works. There are some truly breathtaking segments here though, including an opening detailing the people in perpetual nomadic travel around Mercury's surface, always staying in the twilight between merciless day and night. There's also some really fuckin' goofy romance subplot, and a ton of digressing into worldbuilding details, which makes it hard to evaluate both because they're frustrating and usually fascinating.
Overall Grade: B+, but a few segments really make me wish I could give it an A+.
The Scar by China Miéville
Set in the aftermath of Perdido Street Station, Bellis Coldwine must flee New Crobuzon's police before they bring her in for questioning, so she fakes her credentials and boards a ship as a translator, which is then captured by pirates and press-ganged into forced citizenship aboard the floating city of Armada, where she is embroiled in their schemes and politics while trying desperately to find a way to escape.
My hopes weren't especially high after Perdido, but I loved this one. The characters are better-defined, the world feels lived-in without feeling like it's pushing the characters off the page, and I think China's writing craft is just straight-up better here. I don't think every aspect of it wraps up quite well, and it feels like it runs out of gas rather than reaching a satisfying conclusion, but it even makes running out of gas feel acceptably good. I wish I'd skipped Perdido and jumped straight to this one, and since its connection to the previous book is pretty tenuous, there would have been no difficulty in doing so.
4.0
Set in the aftermath of Perdido Street Station, Bellis Coldwine must flee New Crobuzon's police before they bring her in for questioning, so she fakes her credentials and boards a ship as a translator, which is then captured by pirates and press-ganged into forced citizenship aboard the floating city of Armada, where she is embroiled in their schemes and politics while trying desperately to find a way to escape.
My hopes weren't especially high after Perdido, but I loved this one. The characters are better-defined, the world feels lived-in without feeling like it's pushing the characters off the page, and I think China's writing craft is just straight-up better here. I don't think every aspect of it wraps up quite well, and it feels like it runs out of gas rather than reaching a satisfying conclusion, but it even makes running out of gas feel acceptably good. I wish I'd skipped Perdido and jumped straight to this one, and since its connection to the previous book is pretty tenuous, there would have been no difficulty in doing so.
Perdido Street Station by China Miéville
In the world of Bas Lag there's the sprawling urban metropolitan monstrosity known as New Crobuzon, where humans and bird people and bug people and... look, throw the whole D&D monster manual on the page here, and you won't be far off. A researcher trying to experiment with crisis energy winds up setting off a large scale crisis (gosh, who could have guessed?) when he accidentally releases an interdimensional moth demon, and he and his cohort of accomplices who are brave enough to join him or unlucky enough not to have a choice set about trying to fix it, all while avoiding the police, the drug syndicate, and spider who wants to make the world prettier.
This was my second attempt at Perdido. A few years back, I did the author's The City and The City audiobook, and loved it so much that I immediately bought several others of his most popular, and immediately bounced off of this one pretty hard. I decided to give it another shot this month, and you might get the sense I'm pretty flippant about it. I'll be frank; I didn't love it, but I enjoyed it more this time than last time. It feels less like a cohesive story than someone's tabletop campaign adapted to the page, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it feels unwieldy and unfocused, and the prose a little too stiff to buoy that back up. The plus side is that once it gets momentum on its ideas, they're a lot of fun, and the creatures and scenarios are intensely imaginative.
3.5
In the world of Bas Lag there's the sprawling urban metropolitan monstrosity known as New Crobuzon, where humans and bird people and bug people and... look, throw the whole D&D monster manual on the page here, and you won't be far off. A researcher trying to experiment with crisis energy winds up setting off a large scale crisis (gosh, who could have guessed?) when he accidentally releases an interdimensional moth demon, and he and his cohort of accomplices who are brave enough to join him or unlucky enough not to have a choice set about trying to fix it, all while avoiding the police, the drug syndicate, and spider who wants to make the world prettier.
This was my second attempt at Perdido. A few years back, I did the author's The City and The City audiobook, and loved it so much that I immediately bought several others of his most popular, and immediately bounced off of this one pretty hard. I decided to give it another shot this month, and you might get the sense I'm pretty flippant about it. I'll be frank; I didn't love it, but I enjoyed it more this time than last time. It feels less like a cohesive story than someone's tabletop campaign adapted to the page, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but it feels unwieldy and unfocused, and the prose a little too stiff to buoy that back up. The plus side is that once it gets momentum on its ideas, they're a lot of fun, and the creatures and scenarios are intensely imaginative.