Tag Archives: good fun books

Review: Tuesdays with Morrie

Tuesdays With MorrieTuesdays With Morrie by Mitch Albom

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Though I previously read The Five People You Meet in Heaven, I somehow managed to miss Albom’s smash hit “Tuesdays with Morrie” until this week, when a colleague mentioned it as reference material I scrambled for the library (all praise the mighty haven of books!).
It’s safe to say that Albom’s career as a novelist would not have happened had he taken a different class in college. “Tuesdays With Morrie” is the discussion of “big questions” with Professor Morrie Schwartz. Albom had been in Morrie’s class in college–had taken all of his classes, in fact–and, when he heard about Morrie’s terminal illness, he had gone to visit his favorite professor, 16 years after they’d last seen each other. Week by week, the pair discussed the big scary questions that plague everyone, and Morrie, having the unique perspective perhaps only the terminally ill can claim, acts as the Wise Seer; Albom, and the reader, the disciples traveling afar.
Albom is clearly a talented writer, carefully folding in each bit of information about Morrie’s past as it becomes relevant to the story, but Albom would undoubtedly be just another talented fast-moving sportswriter without Morrie.
The book is poetic, a comfortable bedside-table read if you want to dream about a life beyond the mundane. It’s full of things we should all already know, but because there are so many books telling us we’re living wrong, we must not be getting the message.
Aphorisms aside, this is a good book about a teacher and the impression he can have on the lives around him. Mark this down as “possible end-of-year teacher gift.” I think most people, but teachers in particular, would like to feel they had lived as inspiring a life as Morrie Schwartz.
In the meantime, sometimes the best we can do is read about it, and take a moment to think on our own dreams and goals.

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The Grammarian’s Five Daughters

I found this fabulous short story that uses a fairy tale/fable structure to examine the values of different types of words. It’s beautiful.

Once there was a grammarian who lived in a great city that no longer exists, so we don’t have to name it. Although she was learned and industrious and had a house full of books, she did not prosper. To make the situation worse, she had five daughters. Her husband, a diligent scholar with no head for business, died soon after the fifth daughter was born, and the grammarian had to raise them alone. It was a struggle, but she managed to give each an adequate education, though a dowry — essential in the grammarian’s culture — was impossible. There was no way for her daughters to marry. They would become old maids, eking (their mother thought) a miserable living as scribes in the city market. The grammarian fretted and worried, until the oldest daughter was fifteen years old.

Then the girl came to her mother and said, “You can’t possibly support me, along with my sisters. Give me what you can, and I’ll go out and seek my fortune. No matter what happens, you’ll have one less mouth to feed.”

The mother thought for a while, then produced a bag. “In here are nouns, which I consider the solid core and treasure of language. I give them to you because you’re the oldest. Take them and do what you can with them.”…

I’ll let you find out what happens next, but do go read it. It’s delightful.

It made me wish there was a similar story about punctuation. Maybe there is! I’m a fan of the way commas herd words together in small-but-appropriate-sized bunches, and the way periods are always there to give us a break. The interrobang (?!) is rare but mighty, and apostrophes help us cut the crap.

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Review: Leviathan Wakes

Leviathan Wakes (Expanse, #1)Leviathan Wakes by James S.A. Corey

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

If you like space operas, you are going to LOVE this book. If you don’t know if you like space operas because you’ve never encountered one before (they’ve gotten to be a bit rare), that’s ok: If you like “Firefly,” or “Alien,” or “Armageddon,”and maybe a bit of “The Walking Dead” and “Law & Order: SVU,” you’re going to like this book. Heck, if you like “Star Trek: The Next Generation”‘s interaction with the Borg, or if Gaius on “Battlestar Galactica” was your favorite character, you’ll love this.

If you see “Leviathan Wakes” in the bookstore and are terribly intimidated because it’s a monstrously thick book, get over yourself and buy it anyway. Or buy the ebook. But you should absolutely read it.

“Leviathan” is a bit slow to get going. There’s a weird mystery from the very beginning, but it took me awhile to “get it” and to really understand the monstrosity of it. You’ll start out getting acquainted with the rough-and-ready crew of an ice hauler, just going about the normal efforts of transporting ice from Saturn to the colonies out in the asteroid belt. But of course, things go wrong.

You’ll also meet Detective Miller, who shows you a thing or two about how to deal with crime in a Belter colony. (Hint: Mess with the atmo, get thrown out an airlock). He’s a space version of your tired old tough-guy TV cop, and you’ll love him for it, even as he slowly breaks apart.

I don’t want to give too much away, but the rest of the book involves:
-terrifying monsters (hint: zombies)
-sentient alien weaponry
-the challenges of dating in space
-intra-galactic battles
-mystery
-crime
-cunning diplomats
-against-all-odds scenarios

I think that just about covers it–but, admit it, I had you at “sentient alien weaponry,” didn’t I?

This book is a heckuva lot of fun, and really defied my expectations. Just when I thought I knew what was coming, it took another shocking turn. I really appreciated the respect for the science; you get a really good look at the many challenges of living in/colonizing space, and how that would change not just the solar system, but the people, and how those challenges might be overcome.

Great read. Cannot praise this story enough. Go get it!

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Review: “Wool Omnibus”

Wool Omnibus (Wool, #1-5)Wool Omnibus by Hugh Howey

My rating: 3 of 5 stars

The Wool Omnibus is a collection of 5 novellas, which makes a broad summary difficult. In very general terms, the collection is about people in a post-apocalyptic world who live in a huge underground silo and struggle with secrets from the past.

I really wanted to love this book. Wool is exploding everywhere right now, and Hugh Howey is the defining self-published success story. In fact, if I were writing a review just for the first novella in the book (the eponymous Wool, renamed Holston in the collection), it would have handily earned 4 stars, teetering on the edge of five.

Unfortunately, perhaps because of the way it was written, the tightly woven story with elaborate detail in the first book did not carry through. The further along in the book, the more problems Howey had as a writer in keeping the form and overall concept going. The fifth and last story in the collection, The Stranded, had such big weird mistakes that I would have given it two stars.
I’ve tried to keep the exciting and compelling spoilers out–for the most part, I’m not giving any huge secrets away. But if you don’t want any spoilers at all–you’ve been warned!

There will be spoilers from here out, so if you are still interested in seeing what Howey has created, you’ve reached the end of the road.

Spoilers Ahead!

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Review: “Cold Days”

Cold Days (The Dresden Files, #14)Cold Days by Jim Butcher
My rating: 3 of 5 stars

While the writing of this most recent Dresden novel was outstanding, the story was weaker than some of the prior books in the series. Butcher has undoubtedly become an expert verbal craftsman, but–perhaps because this story was supposed to be so epic?–the plot was all over the place. As a reader, it was hard to keep track of every which direction. At one point, I counted at least 5 major crises happening simultaneously, and several of them seemed just thrown in “because,” without an obvious purpose or direction. All of this meant the story overall became muddled; characters were introduced, given importance, then dropped so Butcher could go and touch base with all the prior characters, in a way that made the whole thing feel rushed and disjointed.

The story did come to a sufficiently awesome-wizard conclusion, which was satisfying, but it felt more like an obligation than the natural direction of the story. I would have much preferred this book, I think, had there been a lot fewer Epic Problems for Dresden to deal with. I mean, the main problem–he is told to kill the Winter Lady, under command of the Winter Queen–is pretty humongous on its own. And the problem with Demonreach made sense, as a baseline. Okay. If we could have flushed away all the extra parts, the story would have made more sense. I don’t need extra things to worry about, and neither does Dresden. Though our hapless wizard hero has a penchant for surviving when things are impossible, facing the towering stack of issues in this novel really made it seem unlikely he’d have made it out, even considering all the “superpowers” he’s been adding on lately. I mean, come on, he’s pretty much dead in the end of the epic fight, but a short nap and a bowl of crappy soup and he’s up and on his feet again? Sorry, I just don’t buy it.

That’s the book overall. But I have a bone to pick about a particular subplot: Dresden’s angst about his daughter, Maggie.

Maggie is the young daughter (I believe she’s between 6 and 9 years old) that Dresden didn’t even know he had. He got the partial-vampire mom knocked up, then she vanished and didn’t tell him they had a child. She hid the child in the protection of some surrogate parents, and things were more or less fine. Then a Big Bad hunted out the kid and was going to use her in a horrible ritual to get back at Dresden. Ok. So that’s when Dresden found out he had a six-year-old daughter, who probably spoke only Spanish, by the way.

He goes, does awesome wizard stuff, and saves her. He decides (probably correctly) that life with him is just too dangerous, so he gives the kid to the secret society of priests in the Catholic church to find a safe place for her. Pretty good decisions, all the way around, good deal. But then he finds out that the super-secret safe place is, in fact, with his BFF Michael, who has legitimate angels watching over the family. Michael may be the best adopted-dad of all time, too.

That seems like a pretty good arrangement for this kid, whom, by the way, he has spoken to for *maybe* two hours, tops, and part of that time he was murdering her mother (in a complicated attempt to save everyone else).

And yet! And yet all the secondary characters in Cold Days take time out of their overburdened crises to lecture–lecture!!–Dresden about him needing to go see Maggie, because he’ll “always be her only, her real, dad.”

What the what?! Seriously?

I’ll leave room for Dresden’s head to still be spinning because he just discovered, saved, and traumatized his child. Okay, that’s reasonable.

But when all of his friends know the kid is in an absolutely perfect, loving, safe home, and that adding Dresden to her life will make her a big fat target for danger of many kinds, and by the way that he has been nothing but a genetic contributor to this kid before, WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM that they would bitch at him about not being some kind of absentee father?

I just don’t understand why it can’t be accepted that Dresden is making the best choice for Maggie by staying away from her. And even if they can’t accept that, for some stupid reason, can they at least accept that it’s a sore spot for Mr. Wizard, and they shouldn’t be lecturing him? Particularly taking time out of a chaos-filled schedule to lecture him?!

This trope that “adopted parents aren’t REAL parents” is very frustrating. There are times when it completely works–like Cinderella, for example–but when we know that the adopted parent is the closest thing to Christ-like on earth, it just doesn’t hold up. It’s unrealistic. And it shows just a bit too much of the author manipulating characters–I truly can’t imagine Murphy ever having that conversation with Dresden, and yet she does…twice. Good lord.

Further, I think it’s a really detrimental message for adopted readers/readers who have adopted children–literally no matter how awesome the parents are, and no matter how bad the situation with the ‘real’ parent would be, the story is not “right” until the child is with the biological parent. Really? Is that the message we want to send?

This was a relatively minor subplot, but it was so jarring and wrong that it took me out of the book several times. If there was a reason–something beyond “But it’s your kid!”–for this behavior, I could accept it, but this forced affection for a kid Dresden has never even know (and certainly wouldn’t know how to handle; can you imagine Dresden dealing with diaper changes?!) is just overdone.

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