PREMISE: A guy dies and finds himself in Hell. That’s all you’re getting.
I flew through this. And not just because it’s only just over 100 pages long. It’s fantastic and addictively written and definitely makes you think. Not about Hell; personally I’m fairly convinced Hell doesn’t exist and if it does (and therefore Heaven also) then man, did I back the wrong Horse of Life. I’ve got no beef with people who do think they both exist, however. In fact, if Hell is actually waiting for me then I’ll be pretty happy if it’s an infinitely huge library. Even if it does mean I spend eternity looking for American Tabloid.
I’m not dipping into Goodreads for this one but fair to say I’ve had a look and there’s the usual handful of bellends and, staggeringly, a bunch of people who didn’t even finish this. It’s 100 pages! How fucking lazy are some people?
In case you haven’t realised, I’m not an academic book reader / reviewer. I don’t notice if a book is using a particular kind of technique or is espousing some deep shit philosophy or even whether the author’s intention is to make some sort of statement or comment on something. If it’s a well-written book with a good premise and story and – crucially – it entertains me or moves me or makes me think then that’s exactly what I’m looking for in a book. Just like this one.
PREMISE: I admit, I generally copy this premise shit from Goodreads. No point me reinventing the wheel. I also do that because it’s a professional summary of the book and something that I wouldn’t be able to get anywhere near in terms of quality. However, I realise that’s such a cop out and in my attempt to produce a professional blog of all my own shite writing and perspectives, I’ve decided to do it all myself. Which basically means if you have even a passing interest in the book I’m talking about, go to Goodreads for a better summary of it because I’ll have likely fucked it up.
So, this book; two related, converging stories set a few hundred years apart, told using a stunningly clever and gorgeous variety of media (text, pictures, drawings, maps etc.).
I have a dream. That one day my one little daughter will walk into Waterstones or Foyles or Barnes & Noble and not see a Romantasy section full of similar-looking novels with beautifully designed covers and gloriously curly fonts but rather a shelf with the title ‘Original Novels’ and under which sits copies of this book and S and House Of Leaves and Maxwell’s Demon and XX and hopefully a raft of other novels that have some originality about them.
To quote the kids of today, this kind of book is my jam. Particularly when it’s done as well as this. That’s the thing with books like this; there’s so much thought gone into the story, the design, the individual elements to be added, how it all hangs together etc. It becomes a real experience to read. It won’t be for everyone. One man’s Donald Duck is another man’s Donald Trump (aside from the fact that one is a laughably fucking idiotic clown of a cartoon character and the other is a duck).
In fact, this book is everything Trump isn’t; it’s intelligent, eloquent, thoughtful, interesting, fantastic to look at and something that adds to society that we can be grateful for.
PREMISE: The year is 1873, and a bison hunter named Samson travels the Kansas plains, full of hope for his new country. The year is 1975, and an adolescent girl named Bea walks those very same plains; pregnant, mute, and raised in extreme seclusion, she lands in an institution, where a well-meaning psychiatrist struggles to decipher the pictures she draws of her past. The year is 2027 and, after a series of devastating storms, a tenacious engineer named Paul has left behind his banal suburban existence to build a floating city above the drowned streets that were once New Orleans. There with his poet daughter he rules over a society of dreamers and vagabonds who salvage vintage dresses, ferment rotgut wine out of fruit, paint murals on the ceiling of the Superdome, and try to write the story of their existence. The year is 2073, and Moon has heard only stories of the blue planet–Earth, as they once called it, now succumbed entirely to water. Now that Moon has come of age, she could become a mother if she wanted to-if only she understood what a mother is. Alone on Mars with her two alien uncles, she must decide whether to continue her family line and repopulate humanity on a new planet.
I absolutely loved this book. So much so, that it’s made it into my Hall of Fame. But before I get to why and spurt a load of superlatives to back it up, let’s hold hands and have a quick skip through the Goodreads 1-starrers’ garden. Some corkers for this one:
Torza couldn’t be arsed to finish the book but wanted to add a one-star review anyway, and said, “didnt finish it. idk, maybe it was good, but the multiple child pregnancies was kinda putting me off.” There was one and it was fairly important to the plot. Colleen Carroll (4 lots of double letters in that name…lazy-ass parents…there’s plenty of other letters out there) continued with the ‘let’s make up some bullshit about this book’ by referencing the “obvious/probable forced alien impregnation of a 14 year old”, which didn’t happen. At all. Anywhere in the book. Two reviewers mentioned the term ‘TERF’, suggesting that the author, Erin Swan has an issue with transgender people. Where the fuck they got this from I’ve no idea as there are no transgender characters in the book. Unless that was their problem, in which case they can fuck right off. Why does every author who doesn’t include a trans character get accused of being anti-transgender? For fuck sake.
My favourite review, however, was this baby by Coastalshelf (obviously has an even more embarrassing name than my middle one): “Found the focus on women as vessels for childbirth extremely off-putting”. Ho-lee-shit. This is a book that spreads across centuries and features characters that are related to each other. The only way for that to happen is for women to give birth. That’s not my opinion, that’s just a fact. You know, Coastalshelf, like your mother did to bring you into the world. Women ARE vessels for childbirth, thankfully. Otherwise none of us would be here. Coastalshelf, you’re a fucking moron.
This book is staggeringly good. Absolutely beautifully written, a complex, inter-weaving story with a gargantuan scope. And this is the author’s first book. Mind-blowing…
PREMISE: Sixteen-year-old Odile is an awkward, quiet girl vying for a coveted seat on the Conseil. If she earns the position, she’ll decide who may cross her town’s heavily guarded borders. On the other side, it’s the same valley, the same town–except to the east, the town is twenty years ahead in time. To the west, it’s twenty years behind. The towns repeat in an endless sequence across the wilderness.
When Odile recognizes two visitors she wasn’t supposed to see, she realizes that the parents of her friend Edme have been escorted across the border from the future, on a mourning tour, to view their son while he’s still alive in Odile’s present. Edme –– who is brilliant, funny, and the only person to truly see Odile –– is about to die. Sworn to secrecy in order to preserve the timeline, Odile now becomes the Conseil’s top candidate, yet she finds herself drawing closer to the doomed boy, imperiling her entire future..
Yesss. Re-read that first paragraph above – a town that repeats across endless valleys in 20-year gaps. What’s not to like about that idea? Books like this hit my g-spot. If you Google it, someone somewhere will call this type of novel ‘speculative fiction’, although I’m pretty sure the definition of ‘fiction’ is that it’s speculative, otherwise it would be fact. But I get the pigeon-holing and actually I’m grateful for it as it allows me to Google ‘speculative fiction’ and discover books like this. What’s even better about this one is that there’s a really beautiful story being told within the construct of the valleys and the time difference. A great book to get lost in.
PREMISE: Women develop the ability to release electrical jolts from their fingers, which allows them to become the dominant sex.
Aaaaah. Why do I do this to myself? I knew what Goodreads would be like on this one and yet in I dove anyway, just to see how much I would drown myself in it. And yet, I’m starting to feel that my forays into the Goodreads 1-starrers are actually benefitting me and giving me this unique take on humanity and it’s gargantuan propensity for difference.
Hahaha…just joking…I do it so I can find the nutjobs on there. However, the sheer hatred that some people have towards books (and there’s a shitload who clearly don’t like this one) has made me start wondering whether I’m actually investing the right amount of emotion and energy into each book I read. And, perhaps more importantly, whether I’m taking them seriously enough.
I’ll be honest, when I read a fiction book I tend to not believe it’s true. Because it’s fiction. And, conversely, when I read a nonfiction book I usually err on the side of believing what is written under the assumption that the author has researched the book and, in general, you’re not supposed to lie in nonfiction. But man, some people take fiction as if it’s the actual gospel (an ironic sentence, I know) and then delight in spewing hatred towards what is ultimately a made up story. I genuinely fear for the health of some of these people if they are able to conjure that much anger and hatred towards a make believe tale. And what’s worse is that they nearly all have additional anger at how they personally have interpreted the book.
It’s just a book. It’s just a made up story. Calm the fuck down.
A few Goodreads reviewers have lambasted the book for not covering/including transgender characters. So what? Don’t take it personally, the author just didn’t write about them. I’m curious as to why Tolkein didn’t include a single unicorn in Lord Of The Rings but I’m not going to lose my shit over it.
I guess ultimately I just enjoy reading. I have books that I like more than others and a few books I haven’t got on with but rather than dwelling on these I just move on to the next. There’s so many out there, why waste time with all that negativity when you could be spending that time reading your next favourite book?
The Power – an interesting idea, very violent in places, definitely thought-provoking and ultimately a really enjoyable and entertaining book. What more do you want?
PREMISE: Leigh grew up in Rotterdam, drawn to the waterfront as an escape from her unhappy home life and volatile father. Enchanted by the undersea world of her childhood, she excels in marine biology, travelling the globe to study ancient organisms. When a trench is discovered in the Atlantic ocean, Leigh joins the exploration team, hoping to find evidence of the earth’s first life forms – what she instead finds calls into question everything we know about our own beginnings.
Her discovery leads Leigh to the Mojave desert and an ambitious new space agency. Drawn deeper into the agency’s work, she learns that the Atlantic trench is only one of several related phenomena from across the world, each piece linking up to suggest a pattern beyond human understanding. Leigh knows that to continue working with the agency will mean leaving behind her declining mother and her younger sister, and faces an impossible choice: to remain with her family, or to embark on a journey across the breadth of the cosmos.
You ever read a book where every word feels important? Not just well thought out or well written, but actually critical to the story in a way that kind of carries a gargantuan weight. That’s what Martin MacInnes does. Across all three books he’s written he has a way of writing that is not just addictive in terms of the prose and the beauty of reading but somehow it’s as if every single word is of vital significance.
Unlike me, as I clearly can’t even explain why I like something. Good job I don’t do this book review (not that these are reviews) shit for a living. I’d have been sacked long ago.
I loved MacInnes’ first two books but this felt like a real step up and I think of it within a bracket of books I’ve read that have something cerebral, wondrous and magical about them. Very much looking forward to book no.4.
PREMISE: Rumors begin to spread of a species of hyperintelligent, dangerous octopus that may have developed its own language and culture. Marine biologist Dr. Ha Nguyen, who has spent her life researching cephalopod intelligence, will do anything for the chance to study them.
The transnational tech corporation DIANIMA has sealed the remote Con Dao Archipelago, where the octopuses were discovered, off from the world. Dr. Nguyen joins DIANIMA’s team on the islands: a battle-scarred security agent and the world’s first android.
The octopuses hold the key to unprecedented breakthroughs in extrahuman intelligence. The stakes are high: there are vast fortunes to be made by whoever can take advantage of the octopuses’ advancements, and as Dr. Nguyen struggles to communicate with the newly discovered species, forces larger than DIANIMA close in to seize the octopuses for themselves.
But no one has yet asked the octopuses what they think. And what they might do about it.
My 20-year old self was a bit of a twat. In fact, probably anything from 10 or 11 onwards up until well into my thirties (some may argue a lot later) I would proffer I was a bit of a dick. Not that I exactly have life figured out now – absolutely far from it – but aside from my daughter, a few life events and time spent with my now-fiancee, there’s no rose-tinted spectacles when I reminisce. And that extended to my reading habits. I was very narrow-minded in terms of stuff I’d read. Unlike now where I actively search out new authors and stories and love finding something different, back then I’d read the same sort of thing by the same sort of authors. I reckon if someone had read the above premise to me and suggested I read it I’d have rolled around laughing. Like I said, bit of a twat.
So, whilst I’m sure I have a lot of twat left in me, I like to think I’ve broadened a few things in terms of my reading and that’s allowed me to find beauties like The Mountain in the Sea. In many ways, it reminded me of a Richard Powers book; intelligent, thought-provoking, fantastic ideas, so massively enjoyable. I’m not the sharpest tool in the box so any book where I’m learning while I’m enjoying a story is a literary perfect storm to me.
PREMISE: At Jodrell Bank Observatory in England, a radio telescope has detected a mysterious signal of extraterrestrial origin—a message that may be the first communication from an interstellar civilization. Has humanity made first contact? Is the signal itself a form of alien life? Could it be a threat? If so, how will the people of Earth respond?
Jack Fenwick, artificial intelligence expert, believes that he and his associates at tech startup Intelligencia can interpret the message a find a way to step into the realm the signal encodes. What they find is a complex alien network beyond anything mankind has imagined.
I love books like this; this, House Of Leaves, S, The Raw Shark Texts, Bats of the Republic. Books that don’t just contain ‘normal’ text, but use a variety of different ‘things’ to tell the story. I’m assuming it’s some sort of regression back to my youth and my immature need to have pictures (or something more than words) in a book. Whatever it is, I like it.
This book is magnificent. Really pretty breathtaking in it’s scope and how it’s put together. Not to mention the level of intelligence and creativity it takes to come up with something like this. Stunning…
PREMISE: Hailsham seems like a pleasant English boarding school, far from the influences of the city. Its students are well tended and supported, trained in art and literature, and become just the sort of people the world wants them to be. But, curiously, they are taught nothing of the outside world and are allowed little contact with it.Within the grounds of Hailsham, Kathy grows from schoolgirl to young woman, but it’s only when she and her friends Ruth and Tommy leave the safe grounds of the school (as they always knew they would) that they realize the full truth of what Hailsham is.
Man, this one is a lingerer. I’m reading an old Carl Hiaasen novel at the moment (always fantastic) but this baby keeps popping into my head. Another book where you can’t help wondering whether something like it will eventually happen. Let’s hope not. A great read.
PREMISE: In the distant future, humans are on the verge of extinction and have settled in small tribes across the planet under the observation and care of “Mothers.” Some children are made in factories, from cells of rabbits and dolphins; some live by getting nutrients from water and light, like plants. The survival of the race depends on the interbreeding of these and other alien beings–but it is far from certain that connection, love, reproduction, and evolution will persist among the inhabitants of this faltering new world.
If I was being tortured and my life depended upon me being able to elucidate the type of book I like best, I’d just refer to this one. And hope that that would be sufficient enough explanation for my torturers to then let me go so that I can hunt out more books like this. Intelligent, thought-provoking, ‘man-this-shit-could-actually-happen’ type books. Fantastic.
Portable Wonderland 