OptionalBooks

Doesn't shine

In this continuation of The Colour of Magic Rincewind and Twoflower visit a house made of sweets, play cards with Death, get chased by cultists, travel through a mysterious magic shop, and play their part in a huge cosmic event.

This part is plagued by much the same problems as its predecessor. The narrative switches back and forth between different locations and characters in an unsatisfying way. The journey of the main characters is disjointed and random, with much of it driven by the author's compulsive need to wow us with the next humorous scenario or witty parody. This time, at least, there is a big event that the narrative is moving towards. It's not much, but it makes the whole thing a bit more bearable.

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Doesn't pop

The wizard Rincewind only knows one spell, but is afraid to cast it, because he doesn't even know what it does. But, sensing an opportunity for rich payment, he becomes a guide for the tourist Twoflower. The two survive the temple of Bel-Shamharoth, fight against and fly on dragons, and sail to the literal edge of Discworld.

As a short summary, this reads like an exciting fantasy adventure. And it does contain even more of what you'd wish for: magical swords, dungeons, trolls, thieves' guilds, dryads, treasure, Death, etc. What's missing is a sense of direction. There is no quest, no goal to be accomplished, no evil plot to thwart. The protagonists stumble—quite literally—from one (parody of a) fantasy trope to the next, with little justification for it all.

This is the first book in Terry Pratchett's Discworld universe. It succeeds in being a whirlwind tour of his whacky world, endearing characters, and style of humor. But it also fails in many ways, most of which regard the narrative and its structure.

For one, jumps between locations and characters to tell multiple perspectives or introduce characters complicate the narrative unnecessarily. Secondly, some information is repeated multiple times. The book is split into three arcs, which could be considered independent short stories, and each of those contains an explanation of how Rincewind learned his spell and what Discworld looks like. When reading the book all the way through in one go, this doubling—or tripling—of information is a tad annoying. Lastly, the way the protagonists get in and out of trouble, and move around the world is often much too arbitrary to deliver a satisfying narrative. They get teleported, dimension shift, or saved by word of God, all at random.

This last point especially is a result of putting the comedy before the plot. Above, I very consciously lauded the style of humor, and not the comedy itself. The style is good, there's clever puns, creative mashups, parodies, and subversions. But it's all too much here. The protagonists get thrown where there's jokes to be told or tropes to be parodied, and when that's done, they get pushed along with such force as to give the reader whiplash.

Even though this is the first book in this setting, it's not a good starting point for new readers. I can only recommend the other plot line I've read so far, which starts with The Wee Free Men. That one's as funny, but got much more heart as well.

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You gotta be a Trooper to finish this piece of reprehensible trash

On a recent re-watch of Starship Troopers (1997), I was disappointed to find the satire not holding up—because there isn't much satire to speak of. The film features no commentary, working only with hyperbole to mark its critique. But reality has since caught up and what once seemed ridiculous, today instead looms as a frightening possibility.

Maybe the book is better, I thought. How wrong I was!

Starship Troopers, the book, is not a satire at all. Written in the first person, it recounts Johnnie's military career. From enlisting against his parents' wishes, to learning of the dangers of communism and the advantages of beating children, to finally genociding a dehumanized enemy.

The writing itself is boring and uninspired. The book features a lot of dialogue and most lines start with “huh?”, which makes all characters and the writer seem like idiots.

The plot isn't any better. Many pages are dedicated to describing military training and a couple of battles. We stay in Johnnie's perspective and never get to understand why anything happens or what the big picture looks like. It's always just about managing a handful of guys and sometimes one of them dies.

Most pages are not the plot though. The plot manages to wind and contort itself in such terrible ways that, more often than not, the author is lecturing the reader through some guy's monologue. Some authority figure will be talking down to a group of people (students or cadets) who are all in awe of how cool and smart he is. He will then explain why their society is much better than earlier ones (i.e. our reality now).

For example, one teacher explains that crime rates are so low because judges hand out harsh corporal punishments and because the death penalty is on the table. Another time he explains that children are so well behaved because parents literally beat them into shape while in the past they were too soft. A girl agrees: “I didn't like being spanked any more than any kid does, but when I needed it my mama delivered.” They further fixed democracy by only letting people vote who've served their term in the military. And they've achieved world peace by... uniting against the bugs. Ugh. Okay, let's talk about the bugs.

In Umberto Eco's essay on Ur-Fascism, the eighth trait describes that the enemy of the fascists must be painted as strong and weak at the same time. Strong, because the image of the enemy needs to stir hatred and fear, to motivate against them. But to the fascist “might makes right”, so the enemy has to be weak as well. The fascist in-group has to be unquestionably above the enemy.

The Nazis called their enemies, especially the Jews, “parasites” or “vermin”. It's very understandable for an author with fascist ideas to make the enemy in their story into bugs.

These alien bugs in Starship Troopers are described as huge creatures with a shape similar to spiders. When the infantry comes into contact with them, the individual bug remains anonymous and impersonal, a bullet sponge first and foremost. On a larger scale however, the bugs are able to attack other planets, most notably destroying Buenos Aires... somehow. Thus, these bugs manage to be dangerous enough to be a credible threat to innocent life, weak enough to mow down on the battle field, alien enough to make peace negotiations impossible, familiar enough to project motivations onto, and inhuman enough to feel no empathy towards.

Overall, the boring plot around the perfect enemy scaffolds the author's badly written diatribes in which he tries to sell you his fascist ideology. His contempt for humans is reprehensible, his little attack on Marxism is laughable, and his book is completely and utterly worthless and disgusting.

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This is where English Magic has gone

Why is there no magic performed in England? That's the question John Segundus of the Magicians of York asks himself in 1806. Not soon after, he and his fellow theoretical magicians bare witness to a demonstration of practical magic. This marks magic's return. We will follow Johnathan Strange and Gilbert Norrell in their quest to make their magic respected and useful. They deal with fairies, tamper with the dead and assist in the war against Napoleon.

This book tells an alternate history from the perspective of a writer that's not contemporary to the events described, but obviously still belonging to the early 19th century. The language and spelling fit the time. The slow tempo also echoes that of contemporaries like Jane Austen. This never felt bothersome though, as the—well over a thousand!—pages are full of dry wit, understated humour, and curious magic to discover.

The plot expertly weaves together history, fantasy, European fairy tales, this fresh take on magic, and a strong cast of interesting characters. Because the book is written under the assumption that the reader would be familiar with the world, it even ends up being a bit of a mystery. We are never handed an explanation for how magic works, what makes English magic “English”, the character and motivation of fairies, and what to think of the occasionally mentioned “Hell”. But the meandering tales and over a hundred footnotes invite to think about these questions while making your way through this well-crafted tome.

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Eindeutig gut

Als Dominique nach 3 Jahren Ehe endlich das Kind zur Welt bringt, welches ihr Mann Claude sich so gewünscht hat, erkennt sie einen Hass in seinen Augen. Was hat ihn enttäuscht?

In brisantem Tempo, wie wir es von Amélie Nothomb gewohnt sind, berichtet die Autorin hier von 20 Jahren, die in wenigen Stunden Lesezeit verfliegen. Die Charaktere werden in extreme Gefühlslagen und zu alltagsfernen Entscheidungen getrieben und bleiben doch nachfühlbar wahrhaftig. Eine feministisch emanzipatorische Auseinandersetzung mit Zorn, Hass und Liebe.

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Does what it sets out to do

This little introduction takes the reader on a (mostly) chronological trip through Friedrich Nietzsche's work. As I'm reading this for its intended purpose—as an introduction before diving into Nietzsche's own writing—I cannot as yet judge how accurate it is. Nevertheless, I feel like I've been provided a good overview of Nietzsche's work, the discourse around him, as well as some of the most important biographical information which will hopefully aid in understanding his texts.

A couple of polemic passages, which probably aim to mirror Nietzsche's own style, make this book not only a quick, but also an enjoyable read.

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Only a ripple in the kiddie pool

“How could the Germans sit back while the Nazis slaughtered people all around them and say they didn’t know about it?” When his students ask Mr. Ross this question, he does not know what to say. Not wanting to leave them hanging, he dreams up an experiment. What if he made his students experience “Strength through discipline,” community and action? What if they joined in a movement?

This novelization of a film based on true events is sometimes assigned reading in schools, especially in Germany. The true events of the weeklong experiment are shocking to hear and have much to tell us about the way totalitarianism works and how we are all susceptible to it. But while the story is fascinating and compelling, this book is a terrible way to experience it.

The story is presented in short sentences and plain language, turning every paragraph into a bore. On a narrative level, the author also aims his efforts at the slowest readers. Every scene and character motivation is overexplained to stamp out any ambiguity. Here's an example:

[Laurie] turned to the reporter who was bopping to his radio. “Alex?” Alex kept bopping. He couldn’t hear her. “Alex!” Laurie said more loudly.

If the author had even a modicum of trust in his readers, he could've omitted the second line completely. On some level, this also seems to be a crutch on part of the author. When he fails to convey an emotion or atmosphere in a scene, he just addresses the reader and tells us directly.

Later sections also explicitly tell the reader what to think of the events described. In this, the book goes completely against its own message. The reader is given no chance to make up their own mind and is instead offered an easy-to-digest moral of the story: “Don't question me when I say you should always think for yourself.”

Lastly, there's the problem of being based on a true story. Some editions feature interviews with Ron Jones, the teacher that actually ran the Third Wave Experiment. But in those editions that do not, the reader is left to wonder: What actually happened? Is this all just hyperbole? When we doubt the validity of the story, we are invited to disregard its moral as a conclusion based on flawed premises.

It seems that the novel is quite close to reported events, but there are some important ways in which it differs. First, this novel is not clear about the very condensed timeframe in which the developments took place. Second, the secret police implemented by Ron Jones is only mentioned in passing. This information network was very effective at silencing opposition and controlling students through fear and plays a big role in my reading of the events.

Rather than reading this book, I would recommend to experience this story either trough watching the 2010 documentary Lesson Plan or by listening to episode 399 of The Dollop podcast.

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Not quite quenching it

The blind man, healed of his ailment, complains about the ugliness of the world. The mother of the healed child complains about how loud and active it is. And the couple from Cana complains that Jesus only turned their water into wine at the very end of their wedding. Now Christ is sentenced to death and lives out his last hours.

In this clever opening, Nothomb's snappy writing mixes with her great sense of humour to immediately draw the reader into her retelling of the passion of Christ. But, immediately after the conviction, the story shifts gears. Jesus Christ reflects on his perspective of these miracles and on his life in general. He will go on to reflect on love, suffering, humanity, and the titular thirst.

These reflections are hit and miss: Some of them are interesting food for thought, or cleverly play on the Bible's teachings. Others take too much space for how banal they actually are. The ratio between the two categories will probably vary from reader to reader, but turned out not that great for me.

Disappointingly, the way this story plays with the Bible's account of things turns more and more annoying throughout. While the opening pages are a joy to read, later sections proudly contradict the Bible in a way that mostly feels spiteful—Luke's account is labelled a “misinterpretation” and John is accused of “spouting nonsense.” Sympathetically, these remarks could be read as the human side of Christ shining through. Given his situation, spite and anger are quite understandable emotions to feel.

Other areas demonstrate Christ having become man much more expertly though. At one point, we follow Christ's thought process as he deals with all of the pain, fear and self-hatred he's experiencing on the cross. After multiple pages, he finally arrives at a place where he is ready to forgive himself.

Overall, this novel just barely falls on the side of me not liking it. But this verdict might change on a reread.

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Delicious, but could've used a couple more minutes in the oven

After Ji-won's dad left for another woman, it didn't take her mother long to also find someone new: George. But Ji-won and her little sister Ji-hyun see what there mother doesn't, that George is a racist and sexist piece of shit. As her mother keeps deluding herself and her sister keeps suffering powerlessly, Ji-won develops a mad appetite for human eyes that could free the three women of their oppressor.

This novel manages to paint a hateable, yet believable villain in George. His racism against and fetishization of Asian women gets your blood boiling early and makes you long for the catharsis that the title and blurb on the back of the book promise. To avoid serving its just deserts too early, the book instead invites us to follow Jin-won's slow descent into madness, which makes her later actions much more believable. At points, this descent is a bit too slow and some of the fat could've been trimmed.

Next to the main course I teased in the opening paragraph, we are also offered a smorgasbord of additional characters and digressions, which mostly succeed in expanding the palette and layering some additional complexity onto the characters and story. Jealousy, academic pressure, friendship, and even a bit of romance find their way into the story.

Still, there were some sour notes. Many passages could have used another pass to fix some clumsy text flow or switch out repeated phrases. A second edition could hopefully take care of couple of typos, a paragraph that was right-aligned when it shouldn't have been, and the worst and most baffling choice in layout I've ever seen: To use block text, but instead of adjusting the spacing in between words to fill the line, the spacing between letters grows and shrinks, making some lines r e a d l i k e t h i s. That almost drove me to such levels of madness as the ones our protagonist reaches.

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Umm, I've got some notes of my own, buddy

This thin book is divided into three parts: Complexity, Complementarity and Holarchy, and Consciousness. This might be the first hint, that this book does veer away from the topic of complexity as an academic field of study quite quickly. But let's take it step by step.

In the first section, “Complexity,” the author tells us a lot of anecdotes. Stories, on one hand, of intelligent people making revolutionary discoveries that sound interesting, but are never explained here. On the other hand, we get stories of how the author himself got into the field of complexity and how cool and important it is. In the end, this section reads like an extended, badly told ad for actually learning about complexity, which I thought I was going to do by reading this book! It could be forgiven as a longwinded introduction before we get to the meat of it, but that's not the case either.

Section two, “Complementarity and Holarchy,” wants to sell the idea that “all is one”. Not only in a New Age woo kind of way, but really, scientifically! Going down through cells, atoms and the quantum level, and back up to planetary and universal scale, we are told how everything interlinks and separation is an illusion. This isn't wrong per se, but the way it's written does read very unpleasant. First, it's long winded, with very specific details at each level being highlighted and explained in full. The general point could surely have been made without going as deeply into these arbitrary particulars. The second reason this section reads unpleasant, is that the author has a very maladjusted sense of how much to explain certain things. Sometimes, a great many words are spent on explaining the simplest concepts, while other times a difficult idea will be inadequately presented in just a few words. Lastly, in this section, and the following, the author presents his banal and clichéd philosophical ideas (“We're all one”, “Isn't life beautiful?”) in such an arrogant and self-important way, that it becomes very difficult to fairly consider that little new, which he adds to the conversation.

All these problems continue into section three, “Consciousness.” A whole chapter is devoted to retelling the biography of Kurt Gödel, another few pages are spent explaining that correlation does not equal causation—in agonizing detail. And finally, the author presents his theory, that there's one “big-C Consciousness” that our own individual “small-c consciousness” taps into to get our thoughts from.

It's quite the achievement to stack this many non-sequiturs onto each other to arrive at a conclusion that somehow still feels like the whole point of the book. I cannot judge whether this grand conclusion is correct, interesting, or helpful, because I simply did not understand any of it. And not for lack of trying, but due to the aforementioned problems in the author's writing.

In conclusion, the title is misleading as this book talks little of complexity, and the eclectic and patronizing writing make it a chore, even to those open to its New Age ponderings.

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