ljbwell 2015 - new year, new books

Here we go again. Yes, there's a ticker, but that's only because it can be encouraging to see it inch forward over the course of the year. 2014 was a mixed bag on several fronts. No real plans other than hopefully to continue to enjoy reading and find some gems in 2015.

Happy reading!

2015 summary list. Unless stated otherwise, the books listed are fiction and in English.

1. The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern (512 p.)
2. La Promenade des Russes by Véronique Olmi (215 p., French)
3. Boy, Snow, Bird by Helen Oyeyemi (309 p.)
4. The Year of the Flood by Margaret Atwood (575 p., 2nd in the MaddAddam trilogy)
5. Lexicon by Max Barry (400 p.)
6. MaddAddam by Margaret Atwood (3rd in the trilogy)
7. The Arsenic Century: How Victorian Britain was Poisoned at Home, Work, & Play by James C. Whorton (non-fiction)
8. The Three-Body Problem by Cixin Liu (399 p., translated from Chinese)
9. Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel (339 p.)
10. Resa med lätt bagage by Tove Jansson (184 p., short stories, Swedish)
11. Ancillary Justice by Ann Leckie (396 p.)
12. Färjkarlen - graphic novel of Stieg Trenter's novel, by Jakob Nilsson (134 p., Swedish)
13. The Peripheral by William Gibson (486 p.)
14. The Martian by Andy Weir (369 p.)
15. Leviathan by Scott Westerfeld (440 p., YA)
16. Min mormor hälsar och säger förlåt by Fredrik Backman (450 p., Swedish)
17. HHhH by Laurent Binet (443 p., French)
18. The Light Fantastic by Terry Pratchett (277 p., 2nd Discworld)
19. The Woman Who Died A Lot by Jasper Fforde (387 p., 7th Thursday Next)
20. Shanghai: The Rise and Fall of a Decadent City by Stella Dong (318 p., non-fiction)
21. Death of a Red Heroine by Qiu Xiaolong (465 p., Inspector Chen 1)
22. Equal Rites by Terry Pratchett (264 p., Discworld 3)
23. The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman (248 p.)
24. A Tale Etched in Blood and Hard Black Pencil by Christopher Brookmyre (352 p.)
25. The Sundial by Shirley Jackson (234 p.)
26. Skios by Michael Frayn (278 p.)
27. What I Talk About When I Talk About Running by Haruki Murakami (188 p., non-fiction, translation from Japanese)
28. Five Star Billionaire by Tash Aw (437 p.)
29. Foundation by Isaac Asimov (296 p., Foundation novels)
30. Mort by Terry Pratchett (317 p., Discworld 4)

And so ends 2015.

And we're off...

First up for the year is Erin Morgenstern's The Night Circus. I got this one as a gift from work, which was nice because it's one I've kept meaning to pick up. It was a perfect vacation book, and an enjoyable start to the year's reading.

The story starts in the 1870s, but focuses mostly on a few years later - mainly the turn of the 19th century. Marco and Celia have special abilities. They are masters of magic, illusion, manipulation. Their lives are entwined by a wager whose terms and outcomes are unclear.

Then there is the Night Circus. The acts, the tents, the performers - many seem impossibly beautiful, unbelievably magical, powerfully mesmerizing. There's a carousel where the animals seem to come to life; a cloud tent where it feels like you can ride and jump from cloud to cloud; new tents are added, each special and wonderful. As the circus moves from town to town worldwide it gathers a loyal following of people entranced by the sights, smells, tastes, and overall wonder of the circus.

Morgenstern creates a beautiful world, filled with magic and fantasy. She creates sympathetic characters. Like the rêveurs who follow the development and movements of the circus, the reader gets drawn into lives of the circus and its performers. My main critique is that the story's buildup and outcomes are predictable. But it is a book that allows for a vivid imagination of the circus and all those involved in its existence and maintenance, and that in and of itself was worth the ride.

>2 ljbwell: I had forgotten about The Night Circus, which I have on my Kindle. I think I will add it to my TBR for this year.

>4 NanaCC: Happy New Year! I'll be curious to see what you think. It has its imperfections, but I really enjoyed it. Right time, right mood.

That's a really nice review. I have been tempted by this book before...but haven't pursued it.

>6 dchaikin: : Thanks! It was much the same for me, but since it was basically handed to me, I was happy to read it - and ultimately glad I did.

I should probably have mentioned that it is non-linear. I didn't mind, though in less focused moments had to double back to remind myself which timeline it was. However, I know some people get put off when a book jumps around. For me, the structure fit with the genre and story.

>3 ljbwell: Enjoyed your review of The Night Circus. I read it a couple of years ago and was quite taken with it.

The Night Circus is very popular on LT, but I liked your description of it.

I took advantage of a recent trip to France finally to finish La Promenade des Russes. Given its slim length, I started it embarrassingly long ago, but just never got into it.

It's the 1970s, Nice, France. Sonia is in her early teens and lives mostly with her Russian-émigrée grandmother, her Babouchka. Her mother and father are no longer together, and her mother has essentially left raising Sonia to her own mother. Sonia rides the line between being French, but also being surrounded by her Babouchka's friends, with their tales of Russia, its history and events. A string of events lead to an accident and to subsequent changes and developments in their relationship.

Given a lot of things about my family background, I'd hoped to feel a strong tie to the story, or to be drawn in by the characters. Instead, I felt it never really went anywhere. The lack of connection turned a somewhat bland book into a chore. Disappointing.

>3 ljbwell:, My memory is crap, but I remember enjoying The Night Circus as well - I think I probably had the same criticisms and joys as you. It's fun, good escapist reading that's also well-written.

>11 fannyprice: - The 1st part of your comment had me laughing - in total recognition. I'm one of those people who has lasting impressions of things - books, films, etc. - but would be hard put to come up with specifics. The details seem to fade so fast, and I'm left with a general feeling or reaction. In short, my memory is crap, too.

Boy, Snow, Bird appeared on so many best-of lists and sounded interesting enough that I decided to pick it up at a recent trip to the library. That could also be because the library had a pretty limited selection, so this really stood out.

In many ways it is a tough book to review without revealing too much. In short, it is a significant reworking of the Snow White fairy tale. More than that, it weaves in bits and pieces of other fairy tales and stories from a variety of traditions, and even fairy tales of Oyeyemi's own creation. It's the 1950s, and ultimately 1960s, New England. Boy Novak leaves New York City - she escapes from her father's beatings and abuse and ends up in Flax Hill. There, she meets Arturo and Arturo's unbelievably, almost disturbingly, beautiful daughter, Snow. Boy and Arturo have a daughter together, Bird. The book is divided into three parts, with the first and last narrated by Boy, and the middle one by 13-year old Bird.

But that just scratches the surface of Oyeyemi's work. As with Snow White, mirrors are a recurring symbol: how we see ourselves - if at all; how the images that are bounced back at us aren't necessarily accurate reflections of who we are; that what appears in mirrors may be unsettling, haunting - stalked by endless reflections; and sometimes the images seem to have lives of their own. It is also a book about families and the secrets they create, guard, even nurture ever-so-carefully, over the years.

I'd argue that there are two key drawbacks to Boy, Snow, Bird. First, I felt like Oyeyemi sometimes broke the lyrical rhythm and tone of the story to make a point - a point which had already been, or was later, made more subtly and interestingly in other ways. Second, is the third section. It just took the story somewhere it didn't need to go. It explains some things, but my lasting reaction has been, 'Really? You had to throw that in, too?'

The story drew me in from the start, and kept me interested. I enjoy both traditional fairy tales and fables, as well as stories that turn those tales on their heads, especially through shifts in point-of-view. I much preferred this twist on the perspective of the story to, say, Maguire's Wicked. It's also a book I would like to talk about without worrying about revealing spoilers.

I was disappointed with Boy Snow Bird both because of the last section (as you commented) and because I felt the "real" parts were just so unbelievable. Unless that was Oyeyemi's point. I was disappointed because I really liked her earlier Mr. Fox.

>14 rebeccanyc:: I definitely had to remind myself that even the 'real' parts were part of an extended fairy tale and moral tale. I think that's why I found it jarring when she left that tone to make a point more directly. I also read a lot of it through a(n albeit imperfect) lens of magical realism. Passing, both the theme and the storyline, became the most interesting for me - from the time Bird is born, the reactions and revelations, Boy's decision to send Snow away. Props to the designer of the book cover, which in hindsight makes the revelation at Bird's birth quite obvious.

Then there's the Thanksgiving dinner where Arturo's sister's years of keeping up appearances lead to her hair falling out into the meal, and the mother reacts along the lines of, 'Well, if you want to give up, then fine, stop treating your hair,' when clearly she sees this as an acceptable price to pay for the successes they've worked so hard to have. She glosses over the emotional toll the decisions have made on the whole family.

I even get that the revelation about Boy's dad shows that even her family has had its secrets, ones which have had ripple effects, that her father has endured years of a very different kind of passing - but there it was that one too many.

>15 ljbwell: Actually, the part that most drove me crazy was the passing theme and race relations in general. The fact that everyone treated the family the same after they were "outed" by Bird's birth, when they had gone to so much trouble to pass for years, was so unrealistic, and the general treatment of the times when the story took place were so unrealistic too. I do realize it was "all a fairy tale" but I just think Oyeyemi could have tried to make the "real" parts more believable. However, maybe I just didn't get it. I do think Oyeyemi was largely playing with the idea of identity, especially with all the mirror stuff, and even though I didn't like a lot of it I found myself thinking a lot about it after I finished it. As you can tell, from my reaction here.

>16 rebeccanyc:: Ah ha - yes, I see what you mean. That did strike me as odd, or that I thought I'd missed something. My comment to someone was, 'I can see how it makes a good book club book'. There's a lot to talk about, not just the story but the structure and approach. Like you say, it seems to be a book that sticks in the mind, for better or worse.

>16 rebeccanyc: I agree with your comments, I did feel that Boy, Snow, Bird had perhaps missed a step in the editing process. I also agree that she seems to have foregone subtlety altogether in this book - each image, or link is hammered with the verbal equivalent of signboards and pointing arrows which really wasn't necessary at all. I was disappointed because I thought Oyeyemi's Mr. Fox was very strong, and I was hoping that Boy, Snow, Bird would follow.

>18 reva8: I was disappointed for the same reason; I too liked Mr. Fox and had high hopes for Boy Snow Bird.

>18 reva8:, 19 - I'll have to try Mr. Fox to compare. That was the first of hers I saw at the library, so I know I can find it there.

Since reading Oryx and Crake some time back, I've been wanting to complete the trilogy. Thus, when I went on a bit of a book-buying binge in January, I picked up both The Year of the Flood and MaddAddam.

The Year of the Flood focuses on Ren and Toby; both women have been members of the environmental, pacifist, largely anti-technology and vegan religious group God's Gardeners, led by Adam One - though each ended up with God's Gardeners in different ways. While the novel starts in year 25, the year of flood, it flashes back through their lives before the flood, and builds up to how each one has ended up where she is. Each section of the book starts with one of Adam One's sermons and a hymn from the God's Gardeners Oral Hymnbook. (NOTE: I've read that the audio version of the book includes the hymns sung by Orville Stoeber - I've only listened to some of the clips available on Amazon).

Atwood's world is rooted in contemporary issues, ones that make her society plausible. Even the God's Gardeners struggle with how to balance their principles against the realities of living in a violent, technology-driven, self-absorbed society steered by corporations out to make a buck at pretty much any expense - not least of which being at the expense of the environment and at a disregard for human costs. She takes current niggling doubts and conspiracy theories and makes them real: big pharma *is* creating health issues so they can sell the vaccines and remedies; the meat you're eating in that fast food burger *is* incredibly suspect; the fancy coffee from the ubiquitous chain you're drinking is full of pesticides and only thanks to the blood and toil of underpaid labourers abroad. And maybe those in charge, and/or those rebelling, don't have the control they think they do.

All this makes the story sound strident, but that's what I enjoy - it isn't. These are things you pick up from the characters, from a line here and there, from Atwood's overall talent for building societies and giving the reader a strong mental picture of that world.

My biggest frustration was a purely personal one - I wished I'd remembered more about Oryx and Crake. What's good is that I'll pick up MaddAddam much sooner so I don't lose the details and flow.

There is so much that could be explored much more here: the flood itself; God's Gardeners and their - sometimes pragmatic, sometimes less-so - attempts to a) keep under the radar of CorpSeCorps and b) reconcile their beliefs and practices with the world around them; more about Ren and Toby; the corporations like HelthWyzer, Rejoov, AnooYoo, and even Scales and Tails; Blanco and the Painballers (though the whole Blanco storyline was a weak point to me). But I'll leave it there for now. And so, until MaddAddam...

Lexicon is a fast-paced thriller about the power of words. There are two threads. The first centers on Wil Parke, who is being chased for reasons he doesn't understand. He's told it is because he has something in his head, a word, a powerful word - so powerful that there are people out to extract that word from him, at all costs, and in any way necessary.

The second focuses on streetwise Emily who is recruited to a special agency for her ability to persuade, and to resist persuasion. But Emily is a loose cannon, and, while she has her defenders, she also has powerful detractors.

And then there are the poets: Eliot, Woolf, Yeats, Brontë, Frost, and more. Who they are and why they want the word so desperately, unfolds throughout. How are words wielded and to what ends?

While poetry is not my strong suit, it was fun to pick up on a few things. For Eliot - think The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, for Frost - Mending Wall, and more. I'm sure I missed a lot of other wink-wink-nudge-nudge references, but these and the others I did piece together were a nice diversion.

Although there are some interesting points raised, this is first and foremost a thriller. There are chase scenes a-plenty, and fairly extended ones at that. And a lot of people die, or get badly injured. As a lasting impression, Lexicon reminded me of a cross between William Gibson's alternative-present Blue Ant trilogy (Pattern Recognition, etc) and Christopher Brookmyre's violent-but-fun thriller romps with social commentary and observations. Good fun, and a bit to think about.

>22 ljbwell: Thanks for this review: Lexicon sounds good, and goes on my TBR (I loved Gibson's Blue Ant trilogy). A poetry thriller sounds fun, I don't think I've read any of those before.

>23 reva8: - Thanks! To avoid disappointment... I's a thin link to poetry - the main one being the characters' names (with names and personalities being loosely related in one way or another). But there's no actual poetry in the book. That said, it's still a fun, quick read.

I've read a lot of criticism about the third in Margaret Atwood's post-apocalyptic MaddAddam trilogy. Where I agree is that I don't know how much new it brought to the table. It picks up where The Year of the Flood left off.

MaddAddam explores the relationship between this remaining band of humans and the genetically engineered Crakers. How do the humans, for better and/or worse, affect the development and evolution of the Crakers? Is their influence positive or negative?

It also interweaves the origin stories recounted to the Crakers by Toby, who is picking up where Snowman-the-Jimmy left off. It shows how rituals, traditions, beliefs are created.

Once again, the whole Painballer storyline drove me bonkers. I understand that it introduced tension, threat and and conflict, but ugh. It just got repetitive and was a frustrating intrusion.

No, not the best of the three, but wraps things up.

I just finished Oryx and Crake. I picked it up without having read any reviews, just the backcover description (also I had liked The handmaid's Tale).
I was therefore pleasantly surprised to discover that I really, really liked it (much more than The Handmaid's Tale in fact). I thought the writing was captivating, and the story, though slow paced, was gripping. I'll probably read the other two books in the series, but will know not to keep my hopes too high for the last one! :)

>26 chlorine: I'll be curious to see what you think of the rest of the trilogy!

Eek, I'm realising it's been a week since I finished The Arsenic Century: How Victorian Britain was Poisoned at Home, Work, & Play. I'd read a review for it in The Guardian a few years ago, and it had been on my to-acquire list ever since. Mission accomplished, and just what the doctor ordered.

Let me say first off, this book is not for the easily-paranoid or those with tendencies towards hypochondria. Reading The Arsenic Century makes you wonder how anyone in the UK (or France or even the US, for that matter) made it out of the 1800s alive; and death by arsenic is not pretty, as made clear in the colourful anecdotes throughout the book. Arsenic was used legitimately as rat poison and sheep dip, but often found its way into people's systems - sometimes accidentally, sometimes not. It was also used to create bright colours in wallpaper, hats, decorations, and clothing, which resulted in people's getting ill or dying. It makes it hard to believe, then, that arsenic was also used for medicinal purposes.

Whorton includes snippets from resources from the time, including court hearings, newspaper and periodical articles. There are plenty of tales of murder, but also of all kinds of accidental poisonings - often due to mistaking arsenical powder for something less deadly, and sometimes with horrid consequences.

There is a lot of humour in The Arsenic Century, too, which helps offset how disturbing some of the tales are. In addition, there is a bit of chemistry, and the reader follows the evolution of forensic science.

It may sound strange, but I really enjoyed this book. The links he makes at the end were, in some ways, not necessary - I know I was thinking similar thoughts throughout, and didn't necessarily need him to point it out. Still, it was interesting to get his more jokey why-I-wrote-this at the start, with the more serious version at the end. Highly entertaining read that will stick with me.

Uh. Entertaining is not the first word that came to my mind while reading what the book is about! It does sound interesting and entertaining though, judging from your review. :)

>29 chlorine: Oddly enough, it was entertaining (and yes, often cringeworthy, too). The lighter touches help offset just how tragic and, quite frankly, horrifying some of the events were.

I had been on the lookout for something different. I don't remember where I came across The Three-Body Problem, but it fit the bill. This is the translation from Chinese of the first of a popular sci-fi trilogy. It is set largely during the Cultural Revolution. Ye Wenjie is a scientist accused of counter-revolutionary activity. She takes a job at the remote, secretive Red Coast Base on Radar Peak. It's basically presented to her as this-or-else; she jumps at the opportunity.

About forty years later, Wang Miao, a top academic developing nanotechnology, is brought, to his surprise, to Battle Command Center. This leads to his involvement in top-secret events, as well as in a virtual reality game with multiple purposes.

Beyond that, I don't want to give more plot away. There was a fair amount of physics involved in the novel, and unfortunately I'm not in a position to critique the book on the accuracy (real or potential) of the science. I can say that the book reminded me of Carl Sagan's Contact, or works from Isaac Asimov. There are chunks of the book dedicated to explaining the scientific parts, and this sometimes detracted from the flow of the story. On the other hand, I found the translator's footnotes to explain certain Chinese cultural references helpful. All-in-all, I am definitely looking forward to the sequels, The Dark Forest and Death's End, when they come out.

Chinese science-fiction, that's a change!
Apparently it hasn't been translated to French, and I wouldn't like to read it in English...

I've seen much mention of Station Eleven both here and on best-of lists from 2014. I like a good post-apocalypse story, so was really looking forward to this one.

The story has two main threads. The first follows the Travelling Symphony as it caravans through what count for North American towns and communities in the post-apocalyptic world performing music and Shakespeare. One of the actors is Kirsten, who had been a child actor before the cataclysmic events. The second follows much of the life of famous actor Arthur Leander, pre-apocalypse - his rise to fame, his three wives, his appearance (just before the deadly spread hits North America) in a staging of King Lear in which Kirsten also appears.

It was fine, but didn't bowl me over the way it seems to have done for many others. I finished it a few days ago, and already it has slipped into vague memory and general impressions mode for me. I suppose the Station Eleven link is interesting - how different people can find different interpretation (even solace) in the same text. But it felt like a device that wasn't used to its full potential. And trying to describe a graphic novel was just clunky. There's a lot of fate and encounters between people with links in the past - how we reach the events of one evening, and how those ripples lead to the events of the future. These are themes that usually work for me. Overall, though, I'm left with a lukewarm feeling.

Let me preface the following comments by saying that I loved, seriously loved, Tove Jansson's Sommarboken. It's on my favorites list. I therefore should have known better than to expect Resa med lätt bagage (Travelling light) to have the same impact.

My biggest issue with Resa med lätt bagage is that, only a couple weeks later, I can barely remember any of the stories. The ones that, looking again at the table of contents, come back to me in any detail are "Korrespondens" (Correspondence), "Sommarbarnet" (The Summer Child"), and "Måsarna" (Gulls). Korrespondens is set of letters from a girl in Japan to the author. Sommarbarnet and Måsarna both capture more of the archipelago life, but in very different ways from Sommarboken. The titular summer child is unpleasant - inflexible and, frankly, a pain in the a** about his temporary surroundings. Måsarna brings to mind Hitchcock's The Birds - and if you've ever had close encounters with seagulls, they *can* be pretty daunting.

As said, it is unfair to have expected this collection to live up to the high bar Sommarboken set. I've seen it mentioned that this is not her strongest collection, so I definitely want to read more of her works. Plus, one of these days I have to tackle the Mumin series.

I'm well behind and have some thoughts to get down here. Partly finding the time, but mostly that my computer died and I find writing anything that requires much thought tedious to do on an iPad keyboard. In any event, a few super-quick summaries:

Ancillary Justice: fun, clever idea. It took some time to follow who some of the characters were. I enjoyed reading it, getting into the Borg- or Cylon-like aspects of the ships, seeing what decisions Breq makes along the way and trying to sort out how independent those decisions really were, etc. Looking forward at some point to the next in the trilogy.

Färjkarlen: this was a graphic novel based on a Swedish crime novel from 1961. When a woman finds herself the only passenger on a Stockholm ferry, things take a turn for the strange. She and photographer Harry Friberg team up to find out what happened and why. There's lots of intrigue, some travel to Gothenburg, mysterious coins. Good fun, clean, bold illustrations. I'm actually curious to read a full novel of Trenter's.

The Peripheral: hard to follow in the start, to the point that after about 150 pages, I actually went back and reread the first 50 or so pages. Things made much more sense and settled me into the pace and style better. Time travel, parallel universes - imagine if every time you played SIMS, you were actually creating a new thread. And that some form of travel/communication/interaction the civilizations were possible. Then amp up the action.

I'll save my thoughts on (how much I despised) The Martian for its own entry. I swear I'll get to it in the next day or two!

Looking forward to your review on The Martian!

>36 chlorine: And here it is.

Houston, we have a problem. It's called The Martian.

Maybe my expectations were too high. Maybe I'm overly critical. Maybe, just maybe, this really was the over-hyped disappointment I experienced.

Some warning. I am biased to think nothing in the book comes as a surprise. Thus, I'm not spoiler alert marking what follows. The whole thing would be one long pink chunk. However, for anyone planning to read the book, you probably want to stop here.

For anyone left...

First, let me get what positives I have out of the way. I'm glad the author didn't shy away from including the science and engineering behind Watney's actions. And it's a quick read. OK, that's done. Now...

Where to begin? That I never shook the feeling I was reading a movie script? Watney survives another dangerous situation! Cue clapping, cheering control center! Quick cut to director looking tired but relieved! Watney gets into a spot of bother! Cue control center looking worried and frustrated they can't communicate with our intrepid hero!

Or perhaps that there was never any doubt of the outcome? I swear, at one point I recall one of the characters announcing along the lines of, 'if anyone can do it, it's our Watney!'

Or maybe it was Watney's annoyingly glib optimism? Worse was that the author would address these kinds of issues by having a character comment on it. 'How does Watney keep going? How is he so upbeat?' 'Oh, don't you know he tested high in that area! That's our Watney!' (See also falling into trad stereotypes below)

Don't get me started on the China part. Or on the money. Or on the painfully hokey last two pages that neatly wrapped up everything in a final cloud of cheesiness.

Could it also be that the author, perhaps unwittingly, presents characters with no depth and who at worst perpetuate traditional roles and stereotypes. Repeatedly slinging around terms like 'ghetto' or 'nerd' felt forced and insulting. Also, OK, the crew commander is a woman. But did anyone else find it uncomfortable when she put forth the proposal to the rest of the crew that the men's responses were, 'Absolutely! (Boo ya!)', and the non-commander woman's was, 'If you think it's best.'? Or that the two women on the ground were the press person and a woman who, by everyone's admission, is essentially demoted because 'she noticed in the first place'? (But that one's OK because the boss says, 'we'll make it up to you later.') And then there's a completely gratuitous romance of sorts - y'know, because heaven forbid a) women and men working together won't ultimately result in a relationship and b) see earlier point about Hollywood movie script.

I could keep going, but my finger is getting numb and my dander is getting up again as I type this out. To sum up, I'm not a fan.

Great review. This one needs lots of thumbs.

Your review of The Martian did make me chuckle!

>38 baswood:, >39 AlisonY: Thanks! I was actually planning to post it, but have been having tech issues.

Enjoed your review of The Martian. Hope you can post it to the book page as well!

Next up... Leviathan, the first of Scott Westerfeld's steampunk series. Having read Uglies by Westerfeld, I'd assumed this would also be young adult; Leviathan targets a slightly younger audience.

What is different about this take on steampunk is that Leviathan is set During the (tweaked) events that would lead to WWI. It tracks two main characters: Alek, the young prince suddenly orphaned and hunted by his family's enemies, and Deryn, the Scottish commoner disguising herself as a boy to get to be an air midshipman. Both are on the move, making their ways across a Europe at the brink of war.

My favorite element of the book were the fabricated animals (fabs), not only Leviathan, but others such as the medusas, lupine tigeresques, flechette bats, to name only a few.

This book was clearly setting the stage for a series. The somewhat unfortunate result was that it felt like a lot of set up for not much payoff. If I were still teaching, I'd absolutely recommend it, and likely read the subsequent books. It's a good introduction for kids to the Great War, and the steampunk machinery and Darwinian fabs are not only fun but can lead to discussions about technological developments, genetics, Darwin, and more. On my own, though, If I stumble across the others, I might give them a go, but wouldn't go out of my way to track them down.

>41 Polaris-: I'm trying. The ipad and I are at a standoff on this point, though, and the easier-to-manage computer has met its maker. But I'm happy to hear some folks here at Club Read have gotten a laugh from it.

>42 ljbwell: That's almost exactly how I felt about Leviathan, but I did end up reading the next two books, and was was glad I did. I thought they were much more fun than the first one.

My son adores the Leviathan series. What surprised me was when I mentioned a book about the causes of WWI that I'd just read during dinner, he had lots of intelligent and informed questions on the topic because of this series.

As for The Martian, when my SO described it to me, I knew right away that it wasn't for me, just like Station Eleven, which was all about the emotional and social ramifications of apocalypse, would leave him cold. It sounded like a book written for the engineering brain. You really should post your review to the book's page.

>44 bragan: That's good to know! With Uglies, I'd always heard the subsequent books didn't pack the same punch. With Leviathan, it's good to hear he's left some good bits for the rest of the trilogy.

>45 RidgewayGirl: i can absolutely see how it would get kids interested in WWI.

On The Martian front, I liked that it was sciency. But that was about it. Given all the gushing hype, I think I expected more lit and less McGyver. I enjoy McGyver, but it isn't what I'd choose in book form. Re: Station Eleven, I must be in a grumpy reading place, but that one left me cold, too. Again, I blame hype. I need to re-find reading inspiration!

If you've read En man som heter Ove, then not much in Min mormor hälsar och säger förlåt will come as a surprise, and that was my biggest issue with Backman's novel. This time, the difficult, opinionated older person is 7- (almost 8-) year old Elsa's grandmother. Elsa's parents are not together - each in a new relationship, and her mother is pregnant. Elsa is, like her grandmother, outspoken, smart. She is different from other kids and bullied at school. Her grandmother is her staunchest ally and only friend. When her grandmother dies, Elsa is left with a treasure hunt - starting with delivering the letter to a stranger and apologising. This sets in motion Elsa's learning about her grandmother, her neighbors, and her own family.

Again, my biggest problem was that I felt like the author rode the success of Ove and just put a different spin on it. But it still felt all too familiar and predictable. People are complicated. They are the way they are because of things that have happened that you might not know about. It's easy to judge, but understand that there might be good reasons for why people do/act/behave the ways they do. It takes a village... He already gave us this with Ove.

Oh, and something that really bothered me throughout the book (aside from the fact you have to keep reminding yourself this is a 7 year old, no matter how clever or resourceful she is): there's a dog that keeps getting fed chocolates. Was that just bad research? Did the author not know, and no one catch, that chocolate is toxic to dogs? Maybe he learned that the chocolate coating in one of the specific candies he mentions doesn't have enough of what is poisonous to dogs, but still.

Overall, it's a fine follow-on to Ove, but really brings nothing particularly new to the table.

I had no idea that chocolate was toxic to dogs! Anyway I don't have a dog, am rarely in the presence of dogs and do not give treats to other people's dog, so I don't feel I was a danger to them.
Thanks for the review, it makes me more interested in A man called Ove but I think I'll skip this second one.

>48 chlorine: Hee hee. I'm not even sure where or when I started hearing about it. I guess I was just surprised that a recurring, somewhat big, plot point hadn't been vetted. Ove has its hokey moments, but it has more heart. Plus, the habits and quirks of Swedish society come across more in ...Ove.

After leaving it temporarily to the side, I finally picked up HHhH again and finished it. I'm glad I did. There's probably not much I can say that hasn't already been said.

Binet writes about Operation Anthropoide, the plan to assassinate SS general, head of Gestapo, and architect of the final solution Reinhard Heydrich. He includes research about Heydrich - his family (both growing up, and his wife), his rise through the ranks, his assignment to Prague, and more. Binet also presents the events leading to the parachutists who are chosen for the secret mission to assassinate Heydrich in Prague. The two stories build and ultimately intersect.

But what makes HHhH more discussion-worthy is the meta-aspect of the book. Binet also intersperses his own thoughts, concerns and struggles about his work. He brings up issues of factual reality vs, say, more interpretive presentation of events. He dwells, for example, on the color of a car. While it may sound trite, it does highlight that what we read or see presented as fact may not be, which then snowballs into wondering what other liberties may have been taken, what other memories may not be so accurate?

For some reason, I am just finding your thread again. You've had some interesting comments. I've added a star again, so that it don't lose you.

I am very interested in A Man called Ove and HHhH.

>51 NanaCC: Welcome (back)! I've been (re-)finding people's threads lately, too. :-)

They're books for very different moods/mindsets - but definitely recommended.

>50 ljbwell: Loved HHhH when I read it recently - I was surprised how much I got into it (and got out of it).

>53 AlisonY: Precisely!

Next up is Terry Pratchett's 2nd Discworld novel, The Light Fantastic. For years I've heard and read about the Discworld series, but wasn't hooked when I read The Colour of Magic, which was the first in the series. But I suddenly had an itch and was in the mood to give it another go. I'm happy I did. This one had more focus, and the characters are starting to develop.

Rincewind, Twoflower and the Luggage are back, and the fate of the Discworld rests on the shoulders (or, rather, in the head) of incompetent wizard Rincewind. There's a lot of humor: puns, satire, and more. (Chaos ensues, it is noted that an unusually large number of people are smash-and-grabbing from a musical instruments store - ah, those must be the luters. Ba-dum boom, chaaaaa).

I've got the third lined up already and am looking forward to it.

I haven't been able to really enjoy this series though I've read three or four books, and I regret it considering how popular it is. Glad you like it better than me!

>56 chlorine: I really didn't get into the first one, but have seen so many critiques about how scattered that one is that I wanted to give the series another go. I also read Hogfather for a book club and liked that one better. In the right mood, I now see that I can get into it. I like punny humor if it is clever, which he is. Plus the whole idea of a disc on the backs of four elephants on the back of a turtle swimming through space, well, that works for me.

The problem for me is that I think it's OK, but far inferior to the humour in the Truckers trilogy. I heartily recommend this one if you haven't read it yet!

Thanks! I'll keep an eye out for that set, too. Looks fun.

>50 ljbwell: Hi, I liked your comments on HHhH. It's been on my wishlist a while, but I've not yet come upon it. I think I'll chance upon a copy sooner or later though. Your thoughts on Binet's approach remind me of how interesting the book sounds.

>60 Polaris-: It's worth the read. I didn't know much about the actual events, so thought the background was interesting, and got sucked into the buildup. There are moments of (uncomfortable, at times) humor, too.

Yes, yes, I've been in the mood for a certain type of book lately. Next up (avoidable pun semi-intended) is Jasper Fforde's 7th installment in the humorous alternate reality Thursday Next series, The Woman Who Died A Lot.

It's 2004. Thursday is in her 50s and, after previous events, is worse for wear. She relies on a stick to walk, she's in a good deal of pain, and keeps slapping medical patches on herself to alleviate the stiffness and aches. She accepts a job as head of the Wessex Library Services, which puts her right back in the middle of the action.

As usual, Fforde sends up the corporatization of everything (the library's full sponsored name, for example), as well as government budgets and policies - and the ludicrous excesses of both. Libraries and librarians are aggressive, well, in pretty much all aspects of their operations.

Many of the characters from the previous books are here once again. Plot points revolve around time travel, destiny, books being stolen and vandalized, God's past and planned smitings, androids, and the predicted impact by an asteroid in the near future. Of course, it is up to Thursday - and her family- to sort it all out.

This was fun, as usual, but I think book 6, One of Our Thursdays is Missing, was so fantastic that this one inevitably was going to have a hard time living up to its predecessor. Still and all, I've come to enjoy the series when I have a hankering for goofy satire that appreciates literature, books and libraries and puts them the center of the this reality.

I'm playing a bit of catch-up here. I was in the mood for some non-fiction, and went for Stella Dong's Shanghai: The Rise and Fall of a Decadent City, which covers the evolution of Shanghai between 1842 and 1949. Her backgrond as a journalist together with her writing style make the book a colorful, often engrossing, read.

As implied by the title, there is a definite focus on the seamier aspects of the city's history (though, as I'll get to in my comments on my next book, this might not be an unfair emphasis). Between the opium trade; the wheelings and dealings of colonial powers; the rise of Chinese warlords, and various in-fighting there; and the struggles for power, not just between the colonial powers and China, but between the Communists and the Nationalists, and eventually the Chinese and the Japanese, there's a deep well to draw from. There's corruption, jockeying for power and influence, a variety of entertainment (ranging from clubs to theaters to dancehalls to prostitution), drugs, and war aplenty. I also learned a lot about the different waves of immigration to Shanghai - many were fortune-seekers, but also, for example, penniless White Russian refugees escaping the Bolsheviks. This last group, along with wealthy Sephardic Jews who had settled in Shanghai, became instrumental support for Jews fleeing from Europe to China during WWII. I found myself getting caught up in the whirlwind, only to be reminded at several points how the wealthy and powerful just manipulated for their own gains, be they economic or political. You're left with an uncomfortable mix of feeling sympathy for those caught in the crosshairs (sometimes devastatingly so) and disdain/well-you-certainly-had-that-coming.

Decadent, opulent, turbulent - and fascinating. Maybe not the most structured, in-depth, or academic read, but certainly informative and captivating.

And, following a Shanghai theme, is Death of a Red Heroine by Qiu Xiaolong. This is the first in a crime series based in Shanghai, with Inspector Chen at the center. The book was written in 2000, and Qiu is originally from Shanghai himself (he did his MA and PhD in the US, and teaches at UC of Wash U).

A young woman is found dead in a river. Chen, a comparatively young Chief Inspector and seemingly on the rise, and his colleagues inherit the case, which turns out potentially to have a political angle. The case takes them to different parts of the city, and even to a couple other locations in China.

I'm really torn on this one. On the one hand, he weaves in historical details, political and social context, even poetry, into this novel. It was interesting to learn about the effects of the Cultural Revolution, of how China was changing in the 90s, and to read things that reinforced or repeated information from the Shanghai book I'd just read (see 63 above). That's the interesting part.

There's a flipside, though. Similar to the Mikael Blomkvist character in the Stieg Larsson books, one gets the sense the author is playing out some fantasy through Chen. And the role of women, even modern, educated, working ones, is primarily as wife and mother and keeping the home in order. Women, even minor or passing characters, are described in terms of their looks, sensuality/sexual appeal, and/or potential as a good, devoted wife - to the point of absurdity.

Will I read more in the series? Almost definitely. It's worth it for the cultural and historical aspects. But it will be with a deep sigh and eye roll every time toenails are like vermillion petals, a waist is slim, a dress is slit up exposing a creamy leg, or a bright, hard-working woman says, 'as a woman, I assure you every woman wants a husband, children, and to be taking care of the home.'

I'm intrigued by Stella Dong's book. I had not heard of it before.

It's a page turner, and I learned a good amount (though to be fair, I was starting pretty much from scratch). It was a good foundation for some of the references in the 1990s crime novel, too.

A couple of quick reads to add.
First up is the next in the Discworld series, Equal Rites. I'm beginning to see why Pratchett's fantasy world has such appeal. I also realised in the past few years that I'm much more amused by goofy puns and plays on words than I used to be (for example, the setup to a 'good fences make good neighbours' line is brilliant).

Wizard lore has it that a wizard about to pass on will hand his power over to the 8th son of an 8th son. And wizards are always male; women can be witches - they're better suited for a more basic magic, with herbs and such. So everyone is flummoxed when old wizard Drum Billet unknowingly passes his power to the 8th daughter of an 8th son.

Unaware of her controversial deastiny, as Esk grows up, she is apprenticed to the local witch, Granny Weatherwax. However, Esk's interactions with magic make it clear she needs wizard training, which takes almost-9-year-old Esk and Granny to Ankh-Morpork and the wizard academy Unseen University. The wizards are, to say the least, dismissive.

This one was a lot of fun. It takes the traditional witch-wizard conventions and challenges them, all while providing laugh-out-loud moments.

Edited to add book title.

The Ocean at the End of the Lane was finally available at the library. A man returns to his childhood home and begins to remember events from 40 years prior when he was seven years old. what at first seems to be the tale of a boy and the 11-year old girl in the farmhouse down the lane. Lettie Hempstock lives with her mother and grandmother. The narrator feels safe, comfotable with Lettie and her family. But all that is about to change, as things are not as they seem.

A quick read, I read it in a couple short sittings. I found it more effective at midnight when I was having a tough time falling asleep, and there was rain pattering outside. In the daytime, I had the same feeling I increasingly get with Gaiman. I like the concepts, I like the stories, but when all is said and done, some intangible leaves me a bit cold.

>68 ljbwell: I haven't read The Ocean at the End of the Lane, so can't comment on that one, but I've listened to several of Gaiman's books and they do well in audio.

>67 ljbwell: which Disc World novel is that? Is it Equal Rites?

I've read three or four of the series and wanted so much to love them, but in the end only found them nice, so I've given up on the series. Equal Rites was among the best of the four.
I've been talking to a friend recently who got me to consider reading other books in the series, starting with Guards, Guards for which I heard even more praise than for the other Disc World books.

>69 NanaCC: I've seen and heard a few versions of Neverwhere, and that one has grown on me over time. Any in particular you'd recommend?

>70 chlorine: Ack, I've edited and added the title. Yes, it was Equal Rites. I'll be curious to see if it feels like the series peaked with that one. I also enjoyed Hogfather, which is in the series, but works as a stand-alone.

I liked Stardust and The Graveyard Book. I also listened to Coraline with a couple of my grandchildren on a car trip. It is quite creepy for a children's book. I have American Gods and Anansi Boys on my iPod but haven't listened to those yet.

>72 NanaCC: I'll have to look for Stardust. I've read the others. It could be fun to pick up a new one (to me) in a different format.

Next batch of library books started with Christopher Brookmyre's darkly humored A Tale Etched in Blood and Hard Black Pencil. This is my favorite so far. Similar to his One fine day in the middle of the night, Brookmyre takes a group of kids who went through Catholic school together in greater Glasgow and looks at who they were then to get us to where they are now. In the present-time story, there have been two murders, and a couple of very likely suspects, but one is in critical condition and the other, unsurprisingly, is declaring his innocence. Three of the four had been classmates as kids, as were most of the other adult characters. The book switches back and forth between past and present.

A page-turner that, though a bit lame at the end, otherwise keeps its dark wittiness throughout as it reminds us that who we are and how we wind up is often etched out in those early schooldays.

I recently had two 10+ hour flights and one 4+ hour layover. In between food, films, and trying to get a bit of sleep, I had time for some reading. Bad Internet access meant I couldn't update LT along the way. In short, here come four quick summary/reviews.

First is Shirley Jackson's The Sundial. Having loved The Lottery so much, I was looking forward to this one. The heir to an old New England estate has just died, and the wife of the current patriarch, whose capacity is diminished, is itching to take over the reins. The sister of the deceased has an odd experience which leaves her convinced that the end of the world is nigh, and only those sheltered in the house will survive. Overall, it didn't have the same punch of The Lottery. Even at just over 200 pages, I found it repetitve and drwn out. She does have some witheringly biting critiques of her characters - both of the usurper to the throne, and the spinster sister are obnoxious and condescending in her own way. But on the whole, this isn't one that left me with any real lasting impression.

Next up is Michael Frayn's comic farce, Skios. This was perfect airport/airplane reading. Light, funny, in the vein of Wooster and Jeeves and comedies of error. The book takes place on a Greek island where a Foundation is waiting for its guest of honor, Dr. Norman Wilfred. Devil-may-care Oliver Fox stumbles into/seizes an opportunity for yet another unlikely adventure when he is taken for Dr Wilfred. Meanwhile, Dr Wilfred is befuddled at his odd treatment by the foundation, and Fox's reason(s) for being on Skios in the first place are on their way. Completely implausible, but good fun, ride to the end. Props to Frayn, too, for at least addressing the whole one-mobile-call-would-end-this-in-a-minute issue.

Third on the list is Haruki Murakami's memoir What I Talk About When I Talk About Running, which delivers what it says on the tin: short essays, excerpts from past writings and his personal journals, and thoughts and musings over Murakami's relationship to running. It's also about ageing and dealing with having to change your expectations. As someone who's recently refound the joy of running myself, I related strongly to what he likes about being on the road, and how he feels when he runs in events. This was more what I expected when I read David Byrne's Bicycle Diaries (which I enjoyed in its own right, but wished it had had more cycling). A great gift for any runner-readers in your life who, like me until recently, somehow have missed this gem.

And finally...Five Star Billionaire by Taipei-born, Malaysia-raised, England resident (since his teens) Tash Aw. The novel follows several threads, each inter-connected and each narrated by one of the central characters. Two knew each other when younger, come from privileged backgrounds in Malaysia, and have had their own ups and downs in mainland China; one is a young illegal immigrant from Malaysia trying to rise to success in the hustle-bustle that is Shanghai; one is an ageing pop star struggling with his own rise and fall; and the final is the mysterious Walter Chao, author of Five Star Billionaire, which is the template other characters are using to map their futures. Parts of the book were good, and I'm glad I read it. That said, some characters' decisions and behavior don't make sense. It also soon became obvious where things were headed, with strong hints as to why, which made it predictable. The whole Shanghai-will-eat-you-up-and-spit-you-out aspect was interesting, but again not given much depth. Good, not great.

Enjoyed your reviews. Shirley Jackson is on my get-to list, but won't start with The Sundial.

>76 AlisonY: Thanks! Yeah, I don't know, it just didn't click or have the tension or payoff I was expecting. I don't know if it's the function of short story vs novel. If you find one you like, let me know.

I really liked The Sundial but there's plenty more Shirley Jackson to enjoy. My all-time favorite is We Have Always Lived in the Castle, but I also loved Hangsaman and The Bird's Nest, among others. Stay away from her first, though: The Road through the Wall.

Enjoyed your reviews. Interesting but disappointing about Tash Aw.

>78 rebeccanyc: thank you for recommendations and warnings! I'd love to find another of hers to latch onto.

>79 dchaikin: thanks! It's funny, as I was reading it, I enjoyed it, but when I sat back and thought about it, it suddenly fell short. Moreover, I discovered I'd been more impatient with it along the way than I'd realised.

Late, last two entries to finish out 2015.

Surprisingly, I've never read (or at least don't remember having read) Isaac Asimov's Foundation novels. I've just started to rectify that with Foundation. The sections focused on psychohistory and the work of the psychohistorians were the most interesting. This involves the science of predicting behavior and thus future events - like a chess player always thinking several moves ahead, but in this case the psychohistorians are looking hundreds of years ahead.

And finally, a frustrating trip to the library resulted in falling back on a safe, light, good for laughs Discworld book: Mort, the fourth in the series. Mort is an awkward, gangly young man who becomes Death's apprentice. As can be expected, things don't always go smoothly. Between this and Equal Rites, I'm enjoying the series more.