Category: Book Reviews

A Symphony of Voices | The Love Songs of W.E.B. Du Bois, by Honorée Fanonne Jeffers

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The Love Songs of W.E.B. Du Bois,
by Honorée Fanonne Jeffers
Published by Harper (2021)
Rating: *****

As a reader, there are few things more exciting than the discovery of a literary gem that enriches your understanding of the world, captivates your imagination, and leaves you with a sense of wonder. This experience is only heightened if the book marks a night spent reading to start the Easter weekend away from e-mail.

In Love Songs, Jeffers masterfully weaves together the story of Ailey Pearl Garfield, a young woman struggling to make sense of her family’s complex history and her place within it. As the novel unfolds, the reader is drawn into a rich tapestry of interconnected lives, spanning from the days of enslavement to the present. With each beautifully crafted chapter, Jeffers expertly layers historical fact, personal narrative, and a touch of magical realism to create a story that is both deeply moving and utterly captivating.

Jeffers’ storytelling prowess is impressive. Her characters are vividly rendered and deeply human, their voices ringing clear and true. Ailey, in particular, is a beautifully realized protagonist, her journey of self-discovery serving as the novel’s emotional backbone. Jeffers has a remarkable ability to breathe life into her characters, making them feel as real as the people we encounter in our own lives.

Despite its length and the complexity of its narrative, the novel is a true page-turner. Jeffers expertly balances the various storylines, allowing each to unfold at just the right moment to keep the reader fully engaged. This sense of momentum and pacing is reminiscent of other great works within the genre, such as Yaa Gyasi’s “Homegoing,” which also explores the multigenerational story of an African American family through history.

Growing up, my first exposure to the female African American experience was through Maya Angelou’s “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings”. Even accounting for their differences in genre and scope, it is difficult to look past common thread they share: the exploration of African American identity, history, and resilience. Through their respective narratives, both authors provide powerful insights into the complexities of race, culture, and self-discovery. I think some comparative analysis is therefore merited here.

Both works share a strong emphasis on the theme of self-discovery. In Love Songs, Ailey embarks on a journey to uncover her family’s history and understand her place within it, grappling with her identity as a young, educated African American woman. Similarly, in Caged Bird, Angelou recounts her own struggles with self-acceptance, self-worth, and identity as she navigates the challenges of her childhood and adolescence. In both narratives, the protagonists’ journeys of self-discovery are intrinsically linked to their understanding of their family’s histories and the broader African American experience.

Furthermore, both authors demonstrate a keen understanding of the complexities of race and culture, examining the ways in which these forces shape individual lives and experiences. In Love Songs, Jeffers explores the concept of racial “passing,” or the practice of light-skinned African Americans presenting as white in order to escape racial discrimination. In doing so, she highlights the fluidity and constructed nature of racial identity, as well as the painful sacrifices that individuals must make in order to survive in a racially stratified society. Similarly, Angelou’s work delves into the complexities of race and culture by examining the impact of racial prejudice and discrimination on the protagonist’s sense of self-worth and identity.

Both books possess an undeniable emotional resonance that has the power to captivate readers and leave a lasting impression. They share a profound commitment to exploring the African American experience with depth, nuance, and empathy. My recall of Angelou’s work was especially struck by Jeffers’ use of sex and religion as themes.

The portrayal of sex in these books allows the authors to explore complex and sensitive topics, such as sexual awakening, sexual violence, and the intersection of race and sexuality. In Love Songs, as Ailey comes of age, she grapples with her emerging sexuality and its implications for her identity and relationships. Jeffers’ portrayal of sex in the novel is nuanced and multifaceted, encompassing both the desire for intimacy and the darker aspects of sexual relationships, such as power imbalances and coercion. By incorporating these elements into the narrative, she invites the reader to reflect on the complexity of sexual relationships and their impact on personal growth and self-understanding.

Maya Angelou’s autobiographical account includes a harrowing portrayal of sexual violence, as the young protagonist is raped by her mother’s boyfriend. This traumatic event profoundly affects Maya’s sense of self-worth and contributes to her struggles with identity and self-acceptance throughout the book. Additionally, Angelou’s exploration of her own sexual awakening and subsequent unplanned pregnancy highlights the complex relationship between sex and personal growth, and the undue societal expectations placed upon young Black women.

In both works, the intersection of race and sexuality is an important aspect of the narrative. The authors examine the ways in which race and cultural expectations influence the characters’ experiences and perceptions of their own sexuality. In Love Songs, the concept of racial “passing” also has implications for the characters’ sexual relationships, as it raises questions about identity, authenticity, and the nature of desire. In Caged Bird, Angelou’s experience of sexual violence is situated within the broader context of racial discrimination and the devaluation of Black bodies.

Through their respective narratives, both authors also explore the complexities of faith and spirituality, as well as the impact of religious institutions on the African American experience.

In Love Songs, Christianity is depicted as a central component of the community and family life, shaping the characters’ values, beliefs, and sense of identity. Throughout the novel, the church serves as a place of solace, hope, and community, offering spiritual guidance and support in times of struggle. However, Jeffers also explores the darker aspects of religious institutions, highlighting instances of hypocrisy and the potential for religious dogma to perpetuate harmful stereotypes and social norms. This nuanced portrayal of Christianity in the novel invites the reader to consider the multifaceted role of religion in shaping individual lives and communities, as well as its potential to both empower and constrain.

Similarly, in Caged Bird, religion plays a significant role in Maya Angelou’s upbringing and the shaping of her values and beliefs. The church serves as a central institution within her community, providing a source of spiritual guidance, communal connection, and moral instruction. However, Angelou also grapples with feelings of doubt, disillusionment, and questioning, as she navigates the complexities of her faith and its implications for her understanding of herself and her place in the world. Through her candid exploration of her personal spiritual journey, Angelou offers valuable insights into the role of religion in the African American experience, highlighting both its potential to uplift and its capacity to perpetuate oppression.

One of the most striking aspects of this novel is the thoroughness of Jeffers’ research. Throughout the book, it becomes apparent that the author has painstakingly studied the historical context within which her story takes place. For example, in the chapters set during the era of slavery, Jeffers deftly incorporates details about the daily lives of enslaved people, from the brutal work in the fields to the cruel punishments meted out by slave owners. Additionally, she brings to light the often-overlooked contributions of African Americans in shaping the United States, such as the heroism of Black soldiers in the Civil War.

This commitment to accuracy and historical truth-telling is commendable and serves to elevate Love Songs from a mere work of fiction to a powerful educational tool. As a result, readers are not only entertained but also enlightened, gaining a deeper understanding of the African American experience and the intricate tapestry of American history. Jeffers enables readers to empathize with the struggles, joys, and triumphs of the characters, fostering a deeper understanding of the complexities of race, identity, and resilience. In a time where empathy is difficult to ‘teach’, I was left with the feeling that fiction can heal.

Does time equal money?

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The past fortnight has seen a strong return to reading. Return is a strong word which suggests I was ‘away’ from reading, so that should be rephrased. The past fortnight has seen a strong return to active reading, thinking and all. So it goes that I must write once more, all inspired by the change of seasons and clocks springing forward. This essay chronicles my exploration of two books which can be framed as describing the “psychology of”:

  • The Psychology of Money: Timeless Lessons on Wealth, Greed, and Happiness is a 2021 book by Morgan Housel. The book explores the psychology of money and how it affects our decisions. Housel argues that our relationship with money is often based on emotions, and he offers suggestions for how we can make more rational decisions about money.
  • Stolen Focus: Why You Can’t Pay Attention—and How to Get Your Attention Back is a 2018 book by Johann Hari. The book explores the psychology of attention and how it is being hijacked by technology. Hari argues that our attention is a precious resource that we need to protect, and he offers suggestions for how we can do this.

Housel was recommended to me by three/four different people whose curiosities I admire, while Hari popped up on Goodreads. Both came to me at excellent times. On Housel, have been working through my own feelings about finances for some time now. I know that this is an ongoing, evolving conversation one must have truthfully with oneself, but the initial stock-taking has commenced. Hari entered just as I was about to slip back into an old habit-pattern: one of multi-tasking, late-night sleeping, and so much more. As readers of this blog are aware, my practice of Vipassana meditation has significantly reoriented my life over the past six months. My “work” sphere is the sphere where this is most visible.

I would recommend both books strongly. Neither proclaimed to be universal truth, which allowed engagement in a more careful way (trying to recognise that arguments it made were a result of the life led by the author). Both had excellent structure, including space for counterargument. I have been delighted especially by how they weaved together and the residual thoughts they have left in my brain.

To my mind, these books are more similar than dissimilar. They make similar key claims about human behaviour, which I have only realised as I typed this up (oh the joys of writing)

They both argue that our attention is being stolen from us by technology. Hari argues that our attention is being hijacked by our phones, computers, and other devices. He says that we are constantly being bombarded with notifications and distractions, which makes it difficult to focus on anything for more than a few minutes. Hausel makes a similar argument, saying that our attention is being “weaponized” by companies that are trying to sell us things. He says that we are constantly being bombarded with ads and marketing messages, which makes it difficult to make rational decisions about money.

They both also argue that we need to be more mindful of our relationship with money. Hari says that we need to be aware of the ways in which money is being used to control us. He says that we need to learn to say no to things that we don’t need, and that we need to be more intentional about how we spend our money. Hausel makes a similar argument, saying that we need to be more aware of our spending habits. He says that we need to track our spending and make sure that we are not spending more than we can afford.

I’ll leave you with two parting thoughts, which you are free to interpret as reasons to pick up the books (they left me with questions and the desire to read more, surely an excellent sign):

First, Housel lays out bare an excellent argument for how money offers the security of choice, which is what you ought to bear in mind. I have seen evidence of this, and often find myself framing this as privilege in conversations with peers. Hari never makes this claim about technology explicitly, but I think it is entirely reasonable to claim that finding and retaining focus offers a similar security. I have been ruminating about how the flow state, which he examines at-length, is one that is wilfully chosen. How true is the idea that discipline is equal to freedom?

Second, I re-read parts of Diane Coyle’s Cogs and Monsters in this context (an excellent book in its own right – and you might find yourself asking at this point, how parting thoughts can point you to more books!). Coyle argues that the field of economics is in need of a major overhaul, as it is no longer equipped to deal with the challenges of the 21st century. She identifies three key problems with economics:

  • It is too focused on the individual, and not enough on the social.
  • It is too focused on the present, and not enough on the future.
  • It is too focused on the quantifiable, and not enough on the qualitative

In this light, Coyle’s work, and the work she has directed over the past few years (including some of my own) study value, and in the context of Hari and Housel, it is worth, in my mind asking how we (rather, I?) allocate value to time. What is time-value?

That is where I find myself jumping to next.

Unconditional Love and Family | The House in the Cerulean Sea, by T.J. Klune

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The House in the Cerulean Sea,
by T.J. Klune,
Published by Tor (2020)
Rating: *****

Introduction

I’m a sucker for books that contain the fantastic and magical, especially when they’re heartwarming reads. The blurb to this book, on Goodreads, was pretty reflective of something similar so I dived right in. I was rewarded with a journey filled with positivity and love, everything I needed at the time put into words.

Plot

The book takes us through Linus Baker’s life. A quiet man, he is a Case Worker at the Department in Charge of Magical Youth (DICOMY). His job is to oversee the well-being of magical children who spend their time growing up at Government-sanctioned orphanages. It’s a job he’s worked for a long time, no promotion, no demotion, and he follows rules to the tee. Out of the blue, he is summoned by Extremely Upper Management at DICOMY and given a super-classified assignment: to travel to Marsyas Island Orphanage.

He is not told much else prior to his departure, but once he arrives on the island, he learns that six dangerous children reside there: a gnome, a sprite, a wyvern, an unidentifiable green blob, a were-Pomeranian, and the Antichrist – all under the care of Arthur Parnassus, who is charming and will go to any length to keep these children safe. Over time however, it becomes clear that not everything about the orphanage, or the island are as they seem, and Linus is faced with decisions to make that go against everything he believes in.

Riding on Characters

Good books, for me, center either around well-constructed worlds, or well-constructed character arcs. Naturally books that combine the two elements are therefore appreciated by me even more. This had a reasonably well-created world, you’re introduced to it early, and through Linus Baker’s view, it becomes quickly apparent what the distinctions from the world we live in today are. That allows focus to shift immediately on to the characters. Having nine protagonists on which the story rides requires meaningful relationships to be forged between each character, something Klune develops naturally. Additionally, each character arc is extremely well thought-out and the book concludes without any unanswered questions, which is a delight. The dialogue is a delight to read, leaving little thinking or effort on the part of the reader to understand each characters’ motives. This by no means undermines the complexity of the characters, but it’s just a pleasure to read something that feels effortlessly written and enjoyed.

Asking the difficult questions

All of that – the characters and the dialogue does not take away from the tough questions the book tries to ask of us. There’s a lot of internal conflict presented within the book about prejudices and differences, and the way we actually respond to these as against the manner in which we ought to be responding to these. It asks of us why we categorize people and experiences into extreme ends on a spectrum, or into pigeonholes, rather than looking at them as they are – complex, and not necessarily classifiable. A lot of the decisions Linus Baker makes through the book are a result of his own reflections on these topics, and they’re an excellent reminder of the need to reflect about these things on our own.

Conclusions

There’s so much joy in this book. I went into it knowing it was a standalone, but I long to understand and read more about the kind of joy Linus Baker is able to spread to the kids he learns to love. I hope there’s some fanfiction to keep me occupied while I wait for a sequel (should it ever arrive).

Open Your Heart | The Forty Rules of Love, by Elif Shafak

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The Forty Rules of Love,
by Elif Shafak,
Published by Viking (2010)
Rating: *****

Introduction

This is the first audiobook I ever consumed. It was recommended to me the minute I opened up my Audible app for the first time. I saw it, was intrigued, checked out the plot, and knew I had to read it immediately. Of course, I didn’t audiobook it completely. I ended up reading more than half of it because I felt a strong desire to push forth – the narrative had me so hooked. This is also what has sparked a renewed interest in reading Rumi’s poetry, or beginning to read Rumi’s poetry.

Plot

This is a book with a plot-within-a-plot, a book-within-a-book. The narrator/protagonist, Ella Rubenstein is a housewife, who takes a job as a reader for a literary agent. Her first assignment becomes reading a manuscript titled Sweet Blasphemy, a novel written by Aziz Zahara. The book tells the tale of Shams-i-Tabrizi and Rumi, their respective journeys and how they find each other, and Shams’ role in transforming Rumi’s life. Ella is smitten, and takes to communicating with Zahara, finding that Rumi’s story apparently mirrors her own life, and sorrows, with Zahara being the person tasked with helping her find love, and joy again.

Nested Stories

Shafak does a beautiful job of switching between the manuscript and the real-life of Ella Rubenstein. The transitions between the two feel timely, never abrupt, and the chapters are never too long, so you never lose track of where you are in each story line. They seem to weave into each other purposefully, especially since they are meant to mirror each other – the pacing is well done, and Shafak introduces elements of conflict, or of communication and resolution in away that never seems to take your attention away from either plot. I appreciated deeply how Rubenstein’s letters to Zahara mimicked communications and the building relationship between Shams and Rumi. The conversations Shafak writes are deep and meaningful, opening up the minds of each of the characters in the book.

The Little Things

Shafak embeds the Forty Rules of Love into the book, exposing them by imagining that Shams revealed them throughout his life when the time was right for the person being spoken to, to receive them. You can see this across his interaction with common-people, with Rumi, and through Zahara’s quoting of the rules of love in his conversations with Rubenstein. I loved that each chapter began with the second arabic sound “ba”, and that each section of the book referenced an element. The story, in its entirety, with Shafak’s lyrical writing, made me more mindful and aware and appreciative of the beauty I have surrounding me, and for a while, all I felt like doing was sitting down and taking all of it in.
It opened me up to a new kind of love, and I cannot wait to read more Rumi soon.

Conclusion

Easily one of the best finds I’ve made this year. Worth reading for how well she brings Rumi and Shams-i-Tabrizi to life.

Brothers & Sisters | The Dutch House, by Ann Patchett

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The Dutch House,
by Ann Patchett,
Published by Harper (2019)
Rating: ***

Introduction

The title of this review stems from this Coldplay song. I discovered this book through the Goodreads algorithm, and later saw this lovely special edition that had been printed which looks stunning (here – look at those pages!), and was tempted to read it. I consumed this in-part through an audiobook, and in-part through the ebook. My overall rating stems from how I felt at the end of the book rather than being representative of individual components of the book itself.

Plot

The book navigates the life of the Conroy family, centering around siblings: Danny and Maeve, who struggle to confront the past and live in the present – returning to their childhood home as observers to figure out everything in their lives. The book begins at Danny’s childhood, with Maeve taking on a motherly role when their biological mother abandons them. It takes us through a tumultuous teenage time, where Danny and Maeve are booted out of the house by their stepmother once their father passes, and how they survive the world.

 The Home As A Character

Patchett does a tremendous job of making The Dutch House, the titular object a character within the book. She exposes the interiors, first allowing Danny to discover the house while growing up, and then allowing the younger stepsiblings to introduce us to more layers to the house when they are left in the care of Danny & Maeve. Maeve recounts everything about the past by using the house as a frame of reference. Not only does that set up context to the time in which events take place, but it takes you through the house’s own ageing process at the same time. The voice and tone of the book always make you remember the house’s presence – and in some sections in particular, it feels like it’s the walls of the house talking.

A Rushed Ending

This was honestly beautiful till I was about 70% in. I loved everything about it. I enjoyed the way the siblings grew up and grew older together, and the kind of challenges Danny was going through in processing his emotions. There was a complexity to both Danny and Maeve that made them feel like real people, and that these were real events happening in everyone’s lives. However, the last 30% really threw me off. The plot was rushed through and felt unbelievable. The changes to their lives felt like they were impossible in real-life, which took away from all of the set-up that Patchett had accomplished in the first half. That was disappointing. It felt, in a sense, that this book would have been more enjoyable had the ending not been as rosy as it ended up being. Especially because the book tries to hint at how we deal with the past as people. I would have genuinely preferred if Danny and Maeve struggled – in one final scene, with the idea that they would not get closure, and learned to live with that.

Conclusion

Read for characters who seem to have hearts of gold, and sibling relationships that seem to mirror what real siblings are actually like.

You Go, Gurl | Equal Rites (Discworld #3), by Terry Pratchett

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Equal Rites (Discworld #3)
by Terry Pratchett
Published by Harper Perennial (2005)
Rating: ****

Introduction

Like I mentioned in the earlier Discworld review, reading Discworld is a project that has been underway for a while now, and is likely to take a while still. As always, this remains a series I come back to when I’m in a slump because I know the books are short, the story arcs simple and easy to follow, and the world explicitly explained.

Plot 

Drum Billet, a wizard who is about to die,  follows the wisdom of his staff, attempting to find his successor. Wizards are generally the eighth sons of an eighth son, and in the village of Bad Ass, up in the Ramtop mountains, an eighth child is being born to an eighth son. Unfortunately for everyone concerned Drum Billet’s staff is of a particularly progressive bend of mind, and the child he leads Billet to is a daughter, not a son. It is thus that Eskarina Smith becomes destined to be a wizard.

Given the premise this sets up, as evident above, and the title, the story is very predictable. Esk faces several challenges as she seeks to become a wizard, ultimately succeeding. What I enjoyed about this is that as the third book in Discworld, you can see Pratchett seeking to examine this magical world from as many lenses as he is capable. In earlier books, he’s looked at the philosophy and mechanics of Magic, and now, he looks and introduces a series of books focusing on the gender implications of a magical world (or of any world, really).

Characters and Sass

Really well-written introductions to Esk and Granny W, who legitimately stole the show for large parts of the book. As compared to the other two books, there is humour led by the protagonists themselves; as opposed to coming out of supporting characters with whom they interact. Pratchett’s inclusion of Simon, a young boy struggling with his magic – to contrast with Esk’s own journey, helps to bring forth the challenges she faces within a setup that recognizes traditional gender roles and restricting women’s use of magic to the limitations that witches are confined to. Granny W has a lot of sass – something that made me chuckle more times than I would like to count.

Discworld Itself

While I fully recognize that this is the first book in the Witches subseries on Discworld, I felt that there was still scope to introduce elements about Discworld to the reader by having Esk or Granny W interact with fresh parts of the world that we hadn’t heard of. What I enjoyed about the previous two books is that they added layers to the physical space that is Discworld. I wished that had happened a little more here.

Conclusion

A solid read that’ll guarantee laughter. Short and predictable, perfect for a reading slump.

Download Machines | How Music Got Free: The End of an Industry, the Turn of the Century, and the Patient Zero of Piracy, by Stephen Richard Witt

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How Music Got Free: The End of an Industry, the Turn of the Century, and the Patient Zero of Piracy
by Stephen Richard Witt
Published by Viking (2015) 
Rating: ****

Introduction

Music is a very important part of my life.  I’ve recounted my own personal history with audio forms, downloading and piracy here. I don’t download music anymore – not since Spotify and other streaming services came to India. These services have changed the way that I work in more ways than one. Finding a book that methodically recounted, and exposed a similar history was quite lovely.

Communicating Complexity

When I read non-fiction books that hone in on specific subjects, one of the things I look out for is how well they communicate complexity, or technical information that would not ordinarily be accessed by individuals. This book begins with the discovery of the MP3 format, the science that went into understanding the frequencies the human ear could hear and the compression that was used to produce the output necessary. My knowledge of this is relatively reasonable given my usage of audio production software and a few of my friendships, but what I particularly admired in this book was the kind of simplicity with which chains in a logical sequence of sentences were formed. The filler sentences, the ones that establish context and provide examples and analogies: those are the crucial pieces of information we latch onto in order to understand something better, and Witt does a great job of breaking down some barriers for us there.

Picking Narratives

I highlighted this in another review recently, but it was great to see three figures form such an integral part of this story: first, a researcher, second, someone within the industry, and finally, a pirate. Piracy provides access to a lot of information, but it’s also disrupted industries and forced companies and law to innovate mechanism to prevent the stifling of incentives to produce, or create. These three narratives provide a lot of relatable information and contextualize things to time, since there is now a reference point for when things in the book are taking place, or how they’re actually impacting people.

Conclusion

A book worth reading. The only thing I found disappointing within the book was the lack of discussion of the freely accessible, legal art that’s come out of compression. The Creative Commons license, under which Soundcloud, for example, helps artists protect a original content was almost non-existent throughout the book. This would have felt more complete had it discussed the subject, which I personally believe is an extremely integral part of what piracy has done.

Minimal | The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing (Magic Cleaning #1), by Marie Kondo

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The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up: The Japanese Art of Decluttering and Organizing
(Magic Cleaning #1),
by Marie Kondo, translated by Cathy Hirano,
Published by Ten Speed Press (2014)
Rating: *****

Introduction

At University, the last evening before it was certain that we would be packing up and returning to our respective homes, one thought stood above all else in my head. Over the past five years, try as I might, I had accumulated a fair number of possessions. What was I going to prioritize carrying back? It was pretty straightforward that evening. I ran through everything I had, thought about what I had left at home, and prioritized accordingly. My approach to it was simple: if I never was able to return to University, what would I be alright letting go of?

I returned home to a house that stood suspended in time, to a room that looked exactly as I had left it in June, 2015, right after my Grade 12 board examinations. I’ve returned here several times on short stints, but never been invested enough in making my room look like I had evolved from the state I was in during that time. So answer papers from past exams were strewn around, a few revision guides were in my shelves, and my exam stationery kit remained exactly as is.

Considering I had time on my hands, I figured I ought to reorganize everything. I wanted to be methodical in the manner I did things, which is why I picked up this book. It did not disappoint.

Structure

Kondo is right about one thing. Nobody really teaches us how to tidy up. I certainly wasn’t taught, or “explained” why things went in particular places. My parents decided where things best fit – and we sort of stuck to those principles, even if (and I never did) come up with better ways to store things. Kondo treats this book as an opportunity to teach. Hence, there’s a lot of structure in the manner she writes, and that’s one of the things I appreciated most about the book. It lays down the premise of why there’s a high likelihood we know very little about what tidying up and decluttering truly means at it’s essence, and builds from there into the philosophy and evidence of how tidying up has assisted her and her clients. It is only after that she goes on to explain and illustrate how to apply these principles, along with additional principles per category of tidying up.

There’s a reasoning to her beliefs about cleaning up that I found extremely helpful, because they allowed you to opt-out and drop out of reading the book, or buying into her system – the one she’s popularized, rather, at any point. That reasoning is at the core of the book, and explains why she remains so passionate about the subject: something that comes to the fore when you watch her TV show.

The Language

Translating this would not have been easy. This is true of all translations: they require a lot of patience and a degree of meticulousness that aids in conveying precise, technical information to a wider audience in a language distinct from the source. The translator has done a fabulous job, not in the least because I smiled throughout my reading of this book. I couldn’t stop smiling because there was a simplicity and joy in the language that communicated the joy of cleaning up so well.

Conclusions

The book works if you buy into it, or go into an open mind and consider implementing any of the things she talks about. Even if you don’t, it’s an excellent theoretical read. For me, though, results were instantaneous. My room, today, is everything I am, personified. Less clutter and all, and that’s definitely helped my headspace.

Classic |Our Oriental Heritage (The Story of Civilization #1), by Will Durant

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Our Oriental Heritage (The Story of Civilization #1)
by Will Durant
Published by Fine [reprint] (1993)
Rating: *****

Introduction 

I started reading this book in January, 2019. Aside from the big reading challenges I do in terms of volume, there are several subjects I’m curious to learn more and get more information into my brain about. One of these is History. That stems largely out of the fact that I didn’t study History beyond Grade 8, then discovered how much I enjoyed it, and now have a lot of unstructured History floating around in my head. In an endeavour to correct the timeline of events I’ve constructed for myself, I took to reading non-fiction History. The idea was to understand History better within 2019 – and I hoped to finish Will Durant’s entire Story of Civilization series. Little did I know how detailed they were, or how many questions they would spawn. There have been days on end with this book that I’ve stopped reading within a sentence of beginning, because something Durant says piqued my interest sufficiently to warrant a Google break, and down that rabbit-hole I jumped. As a consequence, completing the book took till February, 2020. What a lovely ride it has been. My mind is now filled with so much information – and quite honestly, I am sad that I will no longer relive reading through all of this for the first time ever again.

Underpopular Sides of History

I am – as we are all, a student of History. However, I am a student in a particular domain: Law, and the rest of History, I access through pop culture, or through popularized books on subjects. Microhistories are my favourites.

Most History books I’ve read though, especially those that explain civilizations, offer macroscopic views of what these civilizations were like. They focus on events that are popularized, or have had tangible, lasting impacts on a large population of society. Think, political decisions, dynasties, and wars. There’s less emphasis on movements in religion, philosophy, and art and culture – less, popularized, accessible versions of these histories. Durant spends large portions of time laying out what these were, for the absolute beginner. There is enough contextual information to start at this without any awareness about the Oriental countries, and work your way up to getting some command over unfamiliar names, or at the least, being broadly aware of what they speak of.

 Conclusion

This clearly doesn’t contain the latest information. The edition I read was a reprint. The first volume was published in 1935, by Simon & Schuster, so a lot of the information – for example, on Egypt, is outdated, or is, obvious to us today – it seems commonly known. For the time though, I cannot imagine how much research the Durants (there is credit to his wife Ariel, and I am waiting to see how her co-authorship informs the writing in the later books) must have done to be able to write all of these.

I’d recommend reading it, but take it slow. This is History worth enjoying; worth labouring through, worth conducting thought experiments about – and worth, in every bit, loving.

Intriguing Shadow Realms | Nine Princes in Amber (The Chronicles of Amber #1), by Roger Zelazny

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Nine Princes in Amber (The Chronicles of Amber #1)
by Roger Zelazny
Published by Avon (1986)
Rating: ****

Introduction

The thing about finding genres of books that you prefer reading is that you’re able to locate books in the genre a lot quicker. Since I properly began reading science-fiction and fantasy books (in that I took my reading of the genre a little more seriously), I’ve been trying to tick off the classics – the books people recommend as foundational texts that have introduced new dimensions of storytelling, or pushed the boundaries of the genre. Zelazny’s Amber Chronicles series was one of these, recommended to me because I enjoy worlds that have complex, but complete and intricate magic systems. It was also recommended because I enjoyed reading Brandon Sanderson.

Plot 

Carl Corey wakes in a medical clinic, with little to no knowledge of who he is or how he got there. He finds the manager of the clinic, and learns that he was recovering from a car accident in a private clinic, paid for by his sister, Evelyn Flaumel. Fleeing from the clinic, he heads to her house. That is where he discovers his identity, as Corwin. He hides his lack of memory from her – and everyone he comes into contact with, discovering his family and his relationships which each of them.

As one of his brothers, Random, makes contact with him, he decides to try to seize the throne of Amber, which is currently held by his brother Eric. Thus begin his adventure across the shadow realms, mixing reality and fantasy.

Amnesia as a plot device

Personally, one of the best creative decisions I’ve come across in recent times is Zelazny’s decision to give his character amnesia. Amnesia is a curious, painful thing: with the loss of memory is the loss of identity, and the desire to build oneself up is evident right from the start of the book when Corwin chooses to flee from the hospital because he feels unsafe over there. Additionally, amnesia adds layers of complexity to the plot. Aside from Corwin’s concealment of his condition throughout the book – which has a huge impact on the way he behaves with others (compared to what he actually wishes to ask), it allows for the reader to be introduced to Amber and the Machiavellian family that seems to rule it along with the protagonist. Corwin is learning these things almost for the first time, and so are we. This allows for a natural introduction of detail, a natural world-building, where no amount of description feels too dreary since Corwin needs to know all the information to help him make better decisions.

Pacing

Zelazny uses few words to communicate intricate plot depths. The pacing in this book is incredible, and I found myself exhausted after reading it because so much happened in just over 150 pages. I speak, and write, in very long sentences, with a lot of commas. Zelazny uses short sentences – crisp, and to the point, achieving his ends with what feels like minimal effort.

Conclusions

Quite honestly, Amber’s construction is extremely complicated – and for a while, I was not sure whether Corwin was in the real Amber or not. The discussion of shadow realms makes it even more complex. However, that’s what has me intrigued, and I’m also eager to see what happens next in this family. It’s why I hope to be reading the whole series.

A Love Story | Normal People, by Sally Rooney

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Normal People,
by Sally Rooney,
Published by Hogarth Press (2019)
Rating: ***

Introduction

This book was recommended to me by a friend who told me she stayed up past her bedtime to finish the book once she started. To me, that’s always a good sign: a story that keeps you gripped to make you ward off sleep is one I’m going to be curious about more often than not. Thus began my adventure with Sally Rooney. I didn’t take a break while reading the book, and my reading of the book was on one of my more productive reading days. However, what kept me going was the hope that it would get better (and better). Unfortunately, while the book was good, I felt the story and the characters – particularly supporting character arcs remained unexplored, making this a lukewarm 3.5-star book for me.

Plot

Quite straightforward. The story follows two teenagers, Marianne and Connell through their final years in adolescence and into early adulthood. They study at the same school in County Sligo and move together to Trinity College Dublin. Connell is popular at high school, and begins a relationship with unpopular Marianne, whose mother employs his mother as a cleaner. He keeps his relationship with her a secret. At Trinity College Dublin, however, the roles are reversed, as Marianne blossoms at University, while Connell struggles to fit in. The book revolves around their everchanging dynamic over the years, examining what bonds them together and what pulls them apart.

The Relationship

Fiction books that rely on characters rather than worlds, or dialogue, need to be able to have firm character arcs: motives, flaws, strengths, that help them blossom through the book. However, a critical aspect of this is their relatability, which, for me, stems out of their interactions with other characters. Where media pieces set themselves up in the context/focus of a singular relationship (think, Titanic), I enjoy them only when I find myself caring about both characters equally. It’s what upset me at the climax of Titanic. Caring about both characters equally means giving them equal footing throughout the book, and allowing them both to play out without remaining in each others’ shadow. More crucially, their interactions need to be real – and not pretense. Rooney accomplishes this by giving both Marianne and Connell strong introductions, and right off the bat, you begin to care about the fate of both characters. As they get to know one another, you begin wondering where their relationship will go. For a book like this, that is particularly helpful, and I enjoyed the fact that I cared about them so much.

However, simultaneously, I was disturbed by the manner in which they romanticized their difficulties. As things progress, there seem to be explanations for some bizarre ways both characters respond to circumstances – but no real discussion of those explanations (which are traumas).

The Writing

Sally Rooney writes beautifully. Her sentences and descriptions are vivid, and in several places, lyrical, like poetry. It’s part of why I kept reading the book. It suited the ending she had set up – which was cheesy and wonderful for the kind of writing she executes. However, it didn’t “move” me in the way that several similar pieces have previously. I wish there was more exploration of secondary characters – their mothers included, which I feel would have added depth to the book.

Conclusion

I completed the book and was left wondering at all the things that could have been. This was, for me, a good, quick, not-so-immersive read.

64 Squares and Technology | Deep Thinking: Where Machine Intelligence Ends and Human Creativity Begins, by Garry Kasparov

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Deep Thinking: Where Machine Intelligence Ends and Human Creativity Begins,
by Garry Kasparov,
Published by PublicAffairs (2017)
Rating: *** 

This book was recommended to me at University by a guest lecturer who was taking sessions for us in Information Technology Law. I’ve been playing chess against the computer every day since the start of the year (my record is dismal, and improvements, if any, are not noticeable yet), so this book caught my fancy instantly. Deep Blue, in general, is well-documented, but I hadn’t read Kasparov’s thoughts on the game, or on machines generally. Plus, having read Andrew Yang’s bleak painting of what technology was doing to us, I figured it was time for a bit of a more uplifting take on things. One that inspired, and catered to the boundless possibilities that advancements in technology unlocked.

Kasparov takes a fundamentally simple approach the book. He traces through the history of artificial intelligence and machine learning, particularly in the context of chess, and paints how his matchup with Deep Blue came to be – and where the algorithms will take us next, with AlphaGo and everything.

This was a useful exposition of that history. However, my issue with the book is that the blurb made is sound like it would discuss the interaction between humans and artificial intelligence. I was curious, in particular, about Kasparov’s own work with artificial intelligence, and the manner in which he has contributed to chess algorithms and chess database systems, or studied them. That constituted less than one-third of the book, which is the reason for my rating.