Consensual and non-consensual internet cutoffs
May. 12th, 2026 01:16 pmI have been offline more than usual lately because the internet is off at my house and I've been unable to reach anyone who is not an AI, which went about as well and efficiently as you can imagine. The AI has decided that I need a new router and is mailing it to me with instructions for how to install it myself, because God forbid a human be involved. If that doesn't work, who knows what the next step is. I am beginning to suspect the only humans at the company are the CEOs and shareholders.
Meanwhile, I decided that I am spending way too much time doomscrolling, both intentionally and non-consensually. Not only is everything horrible right now, but the minute you get online you're personally informed of every horrible thing that happened anywhere, big or small or in between. Did some random dude murder his entire family anywhere in the world? You'll be informed of it, complete with heartbreaking photos of the dead kids. Did a child commit suicide anywhere in the world? You'll hear about that too, also complete with the awful story and heartbreaking photos! And that's not even getting into politics and the upcoming end of the world. I don't think humans are mentally equipped to live like that.
So I installed ScreenZen on my phone. It's one of many apps that will block both apps and entire websites. (Sadly it does not have the ability to block words.) I blocked everything I doomscroll on. I highly recommend this! I still get the news, as 1) I get a news digest emailed to me daily, 2) people will tell me the news in person whether I consent or not, but at least I'm not constantly marinating in global misery that I can't do anything about. Also, I now have more time to be useful in ways that are actually possible.
The result is that I have read so many more books than usual. I am completely behind on reviewing, also as usual, but with more books involved now. Perhaps I will post a poll.
Meanwhile, I decided that I am spending way too much time doomscrolling, both intentionally and non-consensually. Not only is everything horrible right now, but the minute you get online you're personally informed of every horrible thing that happened anywhere, big or small or in between. Did some random dude murder his entire family anywhere in the world? You'll be informed of it, complete with heartbreaking photos of the dead kids. Did a child commit suicide anywhere in the world? You'll hear about that too, also complete with the awful story and heartbreaking photos! And that's not even getting into politics and the upcoming end of the world. I don't think humans are mentally equipped to live like that.
So I installed ScreenZen on my phone. It's one of many apps that will block both apps and entire websites. (Sadly it does not have the ability to block words.) I blocked everything I doomscroll on. I highly recommend this! I still get the news, as 1) I get a news digest emailed to me daily, 2) people will tell me the news in person whether I consent or not, but at least I'm not constantly marinating in global misery that I can't do anything about. Also, I now have more time to be useful in ways that are actually possible.
The result is that I have read so many more books than usual. I am completely behind on reviewing, also as usual, but with more books involved now. Perhaps I will post a poll.
But Won't I Miss Me, by Tiffany Tsao
May. 12th, 2026 11:08 am
This novel has one of the most off-the-wall premises I've come across. In a near-future world much like our own, women who get pregnant also conceive a "fetal mother." When they give birth to their baby, they also deliver the fetal mother, then fall into a coma-like sleep. The fetal mother rapidly grows into an identical clone of the original mother, then EATS HER. This process is called rebirth. The new mother has the original mother's memories and personality, but is also endowed with superpowers for the first five years of her child's life: she needs almost no sleep, has super strength and fast reflexes, is filled with energy, and finds all child care and domestic tasks endlessly fascinating and enjoyable. In short, the new mother is the woman that mothers are supposed to be.
The main character, Vivi, is terrified of rebirth, and sees it as death. This view is very stigmatized, but might be more widespread than society lets on. She's reluctant to get pregnant because of it. When she finally does, something goes wrong with her rebirth. She didn't get new mother powers. Instead she slogs along, depressed and alienated, trying to care for her infant while she's still physically impaired from the pregnancy and actually needs sleep. She and her husband end up breaking up over this, and Vivi moves to Australia to live with her uncle, who runs a hobbling business.
Remember I mentioned this is near-future? The world has actually decided to do something about climate change, and so drastically regulated energy consumption. Hobbling is altering old machines to make them low emitters. The low-emissions world is less lavish: planes are rarely used, long-distance calls are brief, and only the very rich have unlimited internet. It's an interesting take on a world whose future seems much brighter than ours, but whose present is more similar to our recent past.
Vivi and her family are Indonesian-Chinese, and their cultures (including Australian) play into the book much as the near-future setting does: it's pervasive and interesting and very specific, which makes a nice grounded base for the incredibly weird rebirth stuff.
But Won't I Miss Me is a weird, fascinating, ambitious book with a weird, fascinating, ambitious premise. Great social commentary and issues of identity. I didn't quite love the ending - it felt like it needed either more setup or more payoff - but the book is still excellent and very original.
Hugo novellas, part 1 (of presumably 2)
May. 12th, 2026 09:01 amHi happy somewhat delayed Hugo season!
I have been flirting with the novels but I guess my attention span these days is novella-sized, so that's all I've managed to get through so far.
Murder by Memory by Olivia Waite (Tordotcom) - On a starship where the inhabitants manage the long travel by recording their minds and swapping out bodies, a detective wakes up in another body and must investigate a murder, not just of a body but also of minds... I liked it! It wasn't super deep, and I was a bit side-eying the nod towards a potential ship at the end given what we know, but there was a lot of fun worldbuilding and yarn (knitting is both a character point and a minor plot point). I loved Ruthie and John, my faves.
The Summer War by Naomi Novik (Del Rey US; Del Rey UK) - A fairy tale where Celia, the youngest of the Grand Duke Veris' three children, deals with the aftermath of the summer war with the magical faerie-like summerlings and the fallout in her own family while navigating her own heritage.
I really really liked this one, actually. I just think Novik matches up very well with what I want, thematically, and of course her writing is great. There was one character I was like, well, this is obviously the most interesting character, and was pleased that the author was not uninterested.
What Stalks the Deep by T. Kingfisher (Nightfire; Titan UK) - I always like Kingfisher's writing but I think I can get a tiny bit tired of it? So I read the first of these, What Moves the Dead, a couple of years ago and enjoyed it a lot but then didn't feel like I needed to read any more in this series. Then I read this one and I enjoyed it but felt like I'd already kind of read it? Alex Easton, the narrator of these books, is a sworn soldier (with ka/kan pronouns) in the fictional country of Gallacia. Ka helps investigate odd horror-ish events... so, yeah, that was the plot of both of them. This one is set in the US. I guess the difference is that
I have been flirting with the novels but I guess my attention span these days is novella-sized, so that's all I've managed to get through so far.
Murder by Memory by Olivia Waite (Tordotcom) - On a starship where the inhabitants manage the long travel by recording their minds and swapping out bodies, a detective wakes up in another body and must investigate a murder, not just of a body but also of minds... I liked it! It wasn't super deep, and I was a bit side-eying the nod towards a potential ship at the end given what we know, but there was a lot of fun worldbuilding and yarn (knitting is both a character point and a minor plot point). I loved Ruthie and John, my faves.
The Summer War by Naomi Novik (Del Rey US; Del Rey UK) - A fairy tale where Celia, the youngest of the Grand Duke Veris' three children, deals with the aftermath of the summer war with the magical faerie-like summerlings and the fallout in her own family while navigating her own heritage.
I really really liked this one, actually. I just think Novik matches up very well with what I want, thematically, and of course her writing is great. There was one character I was like, well, this is obviously the most interesting character, and was pleased that the author was not uninterested.
Spoilers!
I am of course talking about Veris here. From Argent's POV he seems like a run-of-the-mill homophobe, but even though Celia kind of thinks so too, she also sees that he actually doesn't particularly care about the gay thing, he just cares very very much about having to be very very careful as he has had to be his whole life (in other ways). So I really liked that characterization which I thought was quite interesting (much more interesting than if he had just been a regular homophobe), and I loved that he came back at the end and was able to redeem himself a bit. And then of course the recurring theme of "let's save everyone, not just the people we love," which I always adore, and also I absolutely positively adored how the whole family figured themselves out and came together. I am SUCH a sucker for that. I really loved how Novik had such empathy for each one of them, and understood that sometimes people can be jerks (and in fact each of them behaves badly at one point or another) but it doesn't mean that's the entirety of their character.What Stalks the Deep by T. Kingfisher (Nightfire; Titan UK) - I always like Kingfisher's writing but I think I can get a tiny bit tired of it? So I read the first of these, What Moves the Dead, a couple of years ago and enjoyed it a lot but then didn't feel like I needed to read any more in this series. Then I read this one and I enjoyed it but felt like I'd already kind of read it? Alex Easton, the narrator of these books, is a sworn soldier (with ka/kan pronouns) in the fictional country of Gallacia. Ka helps investigate odd horror-ish events... so, yeah, that was the plot of both of them. This one is set in the US. I guess the difference is that
Spoilers for both books
in the first book they destroyed the fungus, and in this book, they saved the organism, yay! In both books it was very clear that Kingfisher's sympathy was with the non-human character, so it was nice for it to end well for it here.Hadestown (2nd US tour)
May. 11th, 2026 09:06 pmI have been really bad this year at getting out to see things, but I saw a couple of things! I'll talk about the first one here:
hamsterwoman inspired me and I got to see Hadestown on tour! (The same cast she saw, even, although I didn't realize this until afterwards.) It was only here for two weeknights, clearly as a pit stop in between the two major metropolitan areas we live between. The theater was packed. The only empty spots I saw in the entire house were, hilariously, right in front of us (and must have been people who didn't show up for some reason, as the seats were definitely sold). I didn't buy tickets early enough and they were sold out when I first looked, but fortunately some opened up day of -- I wouldn't normally buy orchestra section for a show I didn't already know I'd love, but that's what I get for not planning ahead. But it turns out I did love it enough that I enjoyed the orchestra section tickets immensely, so it all turned out well.
The singers were all just extremely, extremely good, both as singers and as dancers (well, I guess Hades and Persephone didn't really dance a ton, but Eurydice in particular had a lot of parts where she had to combine with the ensemble), and really imprinted on me. To the extent where I went back and listened to the Broadway recording and was like "okay, sure, yeah, these are the same songs, but that's not MY cast." They were just really really almost scarily professional -- I really can't believe the Broadway cast is any better -- it was hard to believe that we were getting this kind of quality of cast. SO good.
Nickolaus Colón as Hades was THE standout performance of the night in a cast full of excellence. Seriously it was worth seeing it for him alone. The Persephone, Namisa Mdlalose Bizana, was also an excellent singer whose strength matched Colón's (a weak dancer, but as I said before she didn't have to do that much of it). I thought it was a great choice to have the really strong singers be the "gods" -- it really added something to it.
Eurydice (...I think we must have seen an understudy? The site says Hawa Kamara but I'm pretty sure that's not who we saw) and Orpheus (Jose Contreras) were also good but their voices were more sort of good in the way I expected them to be good, kind of. Orpheus, unfortunately, had the flaw (at least that night) that sometimes his top notes (he has a lot of falsetto notes, which is a bit weird?) were flat, and those were inevitably the notes where the song was supposed to be borderline-magic, and it unfortunately always threw me out of those bits because I'd be like "...but he's flat, augh!" The Fates (Gia Keddy, Miriam Navarrete, Jayna Wescoatt) were quite excellent -- both as singers and as an ensemble of three (as they basically did all their parts together, as one would expect). The Hermes (Rudy Foster) was also excellent. So were the ensemble. They were just all super super good.
The orchestra accompaniment was seated on-stage (it was a rather crowded stage at times) and I need to mention the pianist and the trombonist who both sometimes seemed to be participating in the action -- especially the trombonist, who occasionally got up from his seat and played his trombone mingling with the other actors, which was amazing. (I told D at intermission, "No one told me that the trombonist was the hero of this show!") I was especially watching him because now I have a kiddo who plays trombone, and he was using at least a couple of different mutes to make his trombone make a variety of sounds (A.'s trombone teacher showed us some of these at one point, for fun), and also sometimes he doubled as the xylophone player, which I thought was interesting!
I tend to operate one of two different ways with musicals. Either I go in knowing nothing or I go in having basically memorized the soundtrack. This was the former: I went in not knowing anything except that it was an AU retelling of Orpheus and Eurydice, and I'd picked up from osmosis there were trains, and I'd listened to a few of the songs beforehand to make sure I liked them well enough. The pros are that I get to be continuously surprised by the real thing, and the cons are that there are lots of spots where I just don't catch the words, because I have fairly poor speech processing. This was one where I think it was a good choice to go in knowing nothing, because there are so many parts where the music and the visuals work together so well that I think the effect would have been blunted if I'd known the music really well going in. (Hamilton is one where I think it was better to know the soundtrack ahead of time, as I don't think I'd have been able to make out the vast majority of the words otherwise.)
( Vague spoilers if you're like me and have never watched it before )
I think this is a show that I admire more than that I'm fannish about. It's kind of interesting -- it's almost like it's so polished that there aren't any weird cracks or rough edges to hang a fannish hat on, so to speak. So I didn't feel the desire to see it again the next day (not that I would have, but I've absolutely been to theater events where I was like "okay, I would be very strongly tempted go to see this again tomorrow if I could spare the time") but if the tour comes back next year I'd almost definitely go if Colón were still in it, and even if not I'd strongly consider going.
The singers were all just extremely, extremely good, both as singers and as dancers (well, I guess Hades and Persephone didn't really dance a ton, but Eurydice in particular had a lot of parts where she had to combine with the ensemble), and really imprinted on me. To the extent where I went back and listened to the Broadway recording and was like "okay, sure, yeah, these are the same songs, but that's not MY cast." They were just really really almost scarily professional -- I really can't believe the Broadway cast is any better -- it was hard to believe that we were getting this kind of quality of cast. SO good.
Nickolaus Colón as Hades was THE standout performance of the night in a cast full of excellence. Seriously it was worth seeing it for him alone. The Persephone, Namisa Mdlalose Bizana, was also an excellent singer whose strength matched Colón's (a weak dancer, but as I said before she didn't have to do that much of it). I thought it was a great choice to have the really strong singers be the "gods" -- it really added something to it.
Eurydice (...I think we must have seen an understudy? The site says Hawa Kamara but I'm pretty sure that's not who we saw) and Orpheus (Jose Contreras) were also good but their voices were more sort of good in the way I expected them to be good, kind of. Orpheus, unfortunately, had the flaw (at least that night) that sometimes his top notes (he has a lot of falsetto notes, which is a bit weird?) were flat, and those were inevitably the notes where the song was supposed to be borderline-magic, and it unfortunately always threw me out of those bits because I'd be like "...but he's flat, augh!" The Fates (Gia Keddy, Miriam Navarrete, Jayna Wescoatt) were quite excellent -- both as singers and as an ensemble of three (as they basically did all their parts together, as one would expect). The Hermes (Rudy Foster) was also excellent. So were the ensemble. They were just all super super good.
The orchestra accompaniment was seated on-stage (it was a rather crowded stage at times) and I need to mention the pianist and the trombonist who both sometimes seemed to be participating in the action -- especially the trombonist, who occasionally got up from his seat and played his trombone mingling with the other actors, which was amazing. (I told D at intermission, "No one told me that the trombonist was the hero of this show!") I was especially watching him because now I have a kiddo who plays trombone, and he was using at least a couple of different mutes to make his trombone make a variety of sounds (A.'s trombone teacher showed us some of these at one point, for fun), and also sometimes he doubled as the xylophone player, which I thought was interesting!
I tend to operate one of two different ways with musicals. Either I go in knowing nothing or I go in having basically memorized the soundtrack. This was the former: I went in not knowing anything except that it was an AU retelling of Orpheus and Eurydice, and I'd picked up from osmosis there were trains, and I'd listened to a few of the songs beforehand to make sure I liked them well enough. The pros are that I get to be continuously surprised by the real thing, and the cons are that there are lots of spots where I just don't catch the words, because I have fairly poor speech processing. This was one where I think it was a good choice to go in knowing nothing, because there are so many parts where the music and the visuals work together so well that I think the effect would have been blunted if I'd known the music really well going in. (Hamilton is one where I think it was better to know the soundtrack ahead of time, as I don't think I'd have been able to make out the vast majority of the words otherwise.)
( Vague spoilers if you're like me and have never watched it before )
I think this is a show that I admire more than that I'm fannish about. It's kind of interesting -- it's almost like it's so polished that there aren't any weird cracks or rough edges to hang a fannish hat on, so to speak. So I didn't feel the desire to see it again the next day (not that I would have, but I've absolutely been to theater events where I was like "okay, I would be very strongly tempted go to see this again tomorrow if I could spare the time") but if the tour comes back next year I'd almost definitely go if Colón were still in it, and even if not I'd strongly consider going.
(no subject)
May. 11th, 2026 08:36 pmI don't know that Angela Thirlwell's Rosalind: A Biography of Shakespeare's Immortal Heroine was particularly mind-blowing for me as a text in terms of new knowledge or insights on As You Like It. However, it certainly was satisfying for me to read, in the way it is always satisfying to read a book with someone who passionately agrees with you about a mildly contrarian fannish opinion, like:
Angela Thirlwell: I simply think Rosalind is the absolute top-tier Shakespeare heroine
Me [nodding vigorously]: How true!
Angela Thirlwell: she is so witty and clever and in absolute total narrative control of her text and also doing gender like nobody else in Shakespeare
Me [nodding vigorously]: I think everyone who puts on an As You Like It should read your book!
Angela Thirwell: and As You Like It is a brilliant work that hangs together brilliantly in its entirety
Me [nodding en--pausing]: well I'm not sure I agree entirely with that
Angela Thirlwell: and here's my chapter on Rosalind's Daughters which includes every literary heroine I've ever loved. Elizabeth Bennet is kind of a Rosalind when you think about it.
Me [nodding politely]: I see, I see. Do you have any evidence for that?
Angela Thirlwell: Well, no. But! I believe it in my heart. Because Rosalind is the best!
Me [nodding vigorously]: She's the best!
The part that was probably most interesting for me in terms of actual new thoughts about Rosalind and As You Like It was the contextualization of the play in in terms of when, exactly, it was written, and what other plays it sits alongside in its canonical period, including some that are relatively unfamiliar to me -- I don't actually have a great constant sense in my head of Shakespeare's timeline (other than the obvious TEMPEST IS THE LAST) and the Great Chronological DWJ Project has made me much more interested in tracing the way a train of thought evolves over the course of somebody's work. It's interesting to see Rosalind and Viola as different ways of working out a concept that begins all the way back in Two Gentlemen of Verona; Thirlwell makes much of the fact that Viola is stressed and and serious and poetic whereas Rosalind is almost always speaking in comic prose, and takes charge of her own epilogue. Indeed she never forgets to remind us that Rosalind has the epilogue. You can tell what Thirlwell's favorite bits of the play are because she will quote them at least times in the text in order to prove five different points, blissfully unconcerned with repetition. I personally did not need to return quite so many times to the Bay of Portugal but I guess even the fact that Rosalind speaks the greatest percentage of her play of any Shakespeare heroine [good for her!] does not provide that many Rosalind lines to quote from.
Anyway. Do I think you ought to read this book if not for the pleasure of nodding vigorously along with various enthusiastic statements about Rosalind? Like, do I think it will transform you into a person who nods vigorously along with enthusiastic statements about Rosalind, if you were not one previously? Who could say! Report back if you find out!
Angela Thirlwell: I simply think Rosalind is the absolute top-tier Shakespeare heroine
Me [nodding vigorously]: How true!
Angela Thirlwell: she is so witty and clever and in absolute total narrative control of her text and also doing gender like nobody else in Shakespeare
Me [nodding vigorously]: I think everyone who puts on an As You Like It should read your book!
Angela Thirwell: and As You Like It is a brilliant work that hangs together brilliantly in its entirety
Me [nodding en--pausing]: well I'm not sure I agree entirely with that
Angela Thirlwell: and here's my chapter on Rosalind's Daughters which includes every literary heroine I've ever loved. Elizabeth Bennet is kind of a Rosalind when you think about it.
Me [nodding politely]: I see, I see. Do you have any evidence for that?
Angela Thirlwell: Well, no. But! I believe it in my heart. Because Rosalind is the best!
Me [nodding vigorously]: She's the best!
The part that was probably most interesting for me in terms of actual new thoughts about Rosalind and As You Like It was the contextualization of the play in in terms of when, exactly, it was written, and what other plays it sits alongside in its canonical period, including some that are relatively unfamiliar to me -- I don't actually have a great constant sense in my head of Shakespeare's timeline (other than the obvious TEMPEST IS THE LAST) and the Great Chronological DWJ Project has made me much more interested in tracing the way a train of thought evolves over the course of somebody's work. It's interesting to see Rosalind and Viola as different ways of working out a concept that begins all the way back in Two Gentlemen of Verona; Thirlwell makes much of the fact that Viola is stressed and and serious and poetic whereas Rosalind is almost always speaking in comic prose, and takes charge of her own epilogue. Indeed she never forgets to remind us that Rosalind has the epilogue. You can tell what Thirlwell's favorite bits of the play are because she will quote them at least times in the text in order to prove five different points, blissfully unconcerned with repetition. I personally did not need to return quite so many times to the Bay of Portugal but I guess even the fact that Rosalind speaks the greatest percentage of her play of any Shakespeare heroine [good for her!] does not provide that many Rosalind lines to quote from.
Anyway. Do I think you ought to read this book if not for the pleasure of nodding vigorously along with various enthusiastic statements about Rosalind? Like, do I think it will transform you into a person who nods vigorously along with enthusiastic statements about Rosalind, if you were not one previously? Who could say! Report back if you find out!
(no subject)
May. 9th, 2026 09:47 amI have succumbed to peer pressure and started rereading Robin Hobb's Farseer trilogy -- well that's not true, I have reread the first book, Assassin's Apprentice, and told myself [lying] I PROBABLY won't go on from here, I just want to remember what's what! But it seems I will in fact be going on from here because to my surprise I thought Assassin's Apprentice was better than I expected or indeed remembered it being and now I want to get to the Liveship Traders trilogy, which is the one I actually actively remember as being good [citation: fourteen-year-old Becca, a notoriously unreliable narrator as we have many times established.]
The thing is I essentially remembered nothing about Assassin's Apprentice because at the time I read it I didn't really know the narrative value of the fraught emotional bond between a protagonist and their mediocre-to-bad mentor and Assassin's Apprentice is NOTHING but mediocre-to-bad mentors. This book is chockablock full of problematic adults intensely projecting their various personal traumas and failures on our young protagonist and attempting to extend him care and guidance through these various highly distorted lenses, and unfortunately their best at its best is never very good but you can't say they're not trying: not really appealing to me at fourteen but delicious to me at forty.
Assassin's Apprentice begins with the arrival of our protagonist on a royal doorstep, age sixish: this kid is the illegitimate son of the famously upright, faithful, virtuous, happily married, non-slutty heir to the throne, Prince Chivalry, and his unknown relatives have decided that it's time for the child to be Chivalry's problem. This immediately and publicly blows up the entire political situation in the country, as Chivalry and his wife subsequently remove themselves from the line of succession and retire to a remote country estate without ever interacting with the child in question.
So that's Fitz, a kid with no official status who's a walking Weird Situation For Everyone. As for his various mediocre mentors, we've got:
Burrich, who was Chivalry's overwhelmingly devoted right-hand man, and due to a one-two-three punch of inconveniently timed injury/Fitz's arrival/Chivalry's retirement has found himself demoted from Heroic Hand of the Heir to the Throne to local stablemaster and accidental foster parent to the kid who blew up his life and his boss'
Chade, the king's assassin, who started from a similar position to Fitz and has been tasked by the king with molding Fitz into just as useful a tool for the royal dynasty as Chade has been for all these years
Verity, Fitz's uncle and the new responsible-but-overwhelmed heir to the throne, a pleasant and dutiful man with minimal emotional intelligence, who is always sort of absently nice to Fitz until the Kingdom's Problems start Eating Him Alive and suddenly things become enjoyably fraught as the potential increasingly arises that perhaps the Kingdom's Problems would eat Verity alive a little less if he let them eat Fitz alive a little more, but he is not going to do that! because he has ethics! but they both know that the possibility is there!!
Lady Patience, Chivalry's wife, who shows up midway through the book when Fitz is a teenager like 'oops possibly this child should have been parented by us? who says you can't fix the failures of the past! I'm doing it right now!'
What I find charming about Lady Patience in particular is that it's really obvious that to Chivalry she was his beautiful carefree manic pixie dream girl and to everyone else she is a nightmare. In fact all these people are sort of nightmares, and they all do care deeply about Fitz, and are also all failing him in important ways that have to do with their own deeply personal blind spots. The book's strength is in the evenhanded way it looks at these people and their strengths and their failures, and lets both the love and the mistakes matter equally.
The book's weakness is in that Robin Hobb apparently decided that since she had all these deeply flawed sympathetic characters, she also needed some actual villains that no one could possibly feel sympathetic about. There's an evil prince who wants to usurp the throne, and there are also some evil pirates who are kidnapping people from the kingdom and turning them into Soulless Monsters, or rather what
blotthis accurately describes as video game NPCs that you don't need to feel bad about killing. The fact that Hobb goes to great lengths to explain how everyone is very distraught about the situation and does some failed experiments to ensure that there's no way to turn these people back from being soulless monsters and you really truly don't need to feel bad about killing them really just makes it worse.
Also, I think it's important to note that Robin Hobb really is better than most of her peers at thinking about the practical requirements of domestic animals in a Nineties Eurofantasy environment; the proper care of horses and dogs forms a significant underlying element of the book and occasionally becomes a major plot point, especially since Fitz's Special Secret Skill is dog telepathy [Burrich thinks From Personal Experience this is an evil perversion that will ruin Fitz's life and that he must train out of Fitz as much as possible] [this is definitely not a metaphor for anything] [Robin Hobb wants to know how you could you possibly ask that]. Anyway the flip side of this is that Robin Hobb will Not hesitate to kill a puppy. Never think she won't do it. She has a knife to another puppy's throat right now. ( spoilers )
The thing is I essentially remembered nothing about Assassin's Apprentice because at the time I read it I didn't really know the narrative value of the fraught emotional bond between a protagonist and their mediocre-to-bad mentor and Assassin's Apprentice is NOTHING but mediocre-to-bad mentors. This book is chockablock full of problematic adults intensely projecting their various personal traumas and failures on our young protagonist and attempting to extend him care and guidance through these various highly distorted lenses, and unfortunately their best at its best is never very good but you can't say they're not trying: not really appealing to me at fourteen but delicious to me at forty.
Assassin's Apprentice begins with the arrival of our protagonist on a royal doorstep, age sixish: this kid is the illegitimate son of the famously upright, faithful, virtuous, happily married, non-slutty heir to the throne, Prince Chivalry, and his unknown relatives have decided that it's time for the child to be Chivalry's problem. This immediately and publicly blows up the entire political situation in the country, as Chivalry and his wife subsequently remove themselves from the line of succession and retire to a remote country estate without ever interacting with the child in question.
So that's Fitz, a kid with no official status who's a walking Weird Situation For Everyone. As for his various mediocre mentors, we've got:
Burrich, who was Chivalry's overwhelmingly devoted right-hand man, and due to a one-two-three punch of inconveniently timed injury/Fitz's arrival/Chivalry's retirement has found himself demoted from Heroic Hand of the Heir to the Throne to local stablemaster and accidental foster parent to the kid who blew up his life and his boss'
Chade, the king's assassin, who started from a similar position to Fitz and has been tasked by the king with molding Fitz into just as useful a tool for the royal dynasty as Chade has been for all these years
Verity, Fitz's uncle and the new responsible-but-overwhelmed heir to the throne, a pleasant and dutiful man with minimal emotional intelligence, who is always sort of absently nice to Fitz until the Kingdom's Problems start Eating Him Alive and suddenly things become enjoyably fraught as the potential increasingly arises that perhaps the Kingdom's Problems would eat Verity alive a little less if he let them eat Fitz alive a little more, but he is not going to do that! because he has ethics! but they both know that the possibility is there!!
Lady Patience, Chivalry's wife, who shows up midway through the book when Fitz is a teenager like 'oops possibly this child should have been parented by us? who says you can't fix the failures of the past! I'm doing it right now!'
What I find charming about Lady Patience in particular is that it's really obvious that to Chivalry she was his beautiful carefree manic pixie dream girl and to everyone else she is a nightmare. In fact all these people are sort of nightmares, and they all do care deeply about Fitz, and are also all failing him in important ways that have to do with their own deeply personal blind spots. The book's strength is in the evenhanded way it looks at these people and their strengths and their failures, and lets both the love and the mistakes matter equally.
The book's weakness is in that Robin Hobb apparently decided that since she had all these deeply flawed sympathetic characters, she also needed some actual villains that no one could possibly feel sympathetic about. There's an evil prince who wants to usurp the throne, and there are also some evil pirates who are kidnapping people from the kingdom and turning them into Soulless Monsters, or rather what
Also, I think it's important to note that Robin Hobb really is better than most of her peers at thinking about the practical requirements of domestic animals in a Nineties Eurofantasy environment; the proper care of horses and dogs forms a significant underlying element of the book and occasionally becomes a major plot point, especially since Fitz's Special Secret Skill is dog telepathy [Burrich thinks From Personal Experience this is an evil perversion that will ruin Fitz's life and that he must train out of Fitz as much as possible] [this is definitely not a metaphor for anything] [Robin Hobb wants to know how you could you possibly ask that]. Anyway the flip side of this is that Robin Hobb will Not hesitate to kill a puppy. Never think she won't do it. She has a knife to another puppy's throat right now. ( spoilers )
recent watching
May. 9th, 2026 08:36 amCallan
A 1960s-70s TV series about David Callan, government assassin. It seems not all of this survives, but some of it is available on DVD and we've been watching the black and white episodes. Some of them were evidently recovered in a slightly weird way and you get odd ghostly images and moments when the picture jumps slightly, but it didn't matter because it's very watchable. It's a tightly written, dark series about an unmentionable branch of the British government that does assassinations and other black ops. Callan is our expert, miserable, lonely assassin and general purpose operative, assigned to jobs like helping the Israelis abduct a Nazi war criminal for trial, or figuring out whether or not a young woman is about to leak nuclear secrets to the Soviets, or investigating the mysterious death of a French intelligence agent, or retrieving his new boss from East Germany through a minefield. Sometimes he's clearly doing something important, other times it's all a disaster, and when he can Callan makes his own decisions about who lives and who doesn't. The government department is extremely cold: they routinely torture people or question them under drugs, the commanding officer - always named Charley Hunter regardless of his actual name - has little regard for his men's safety or how many innocent people get hurt in the process of saving the nation, and Callan's fellow assassin is a very posh sadist. It's only by contrast with them that Callan is a nice guy. Callan's only friend is a shabby little petty thief known as Lonely who Callan bullies, insults and protects in equal degree and who can be relied upon to follow people, burgle houses, keep watch or know a fellow petty criminal who can do anything Callan wants done. In return Callan will fight anyone up to and including his fellow assassins and his boss to protect Lonely from harm, and also makes sure he eats and bathes occasionally. We've watched maybe a dozen of the episodes and they've all been very well done.
The Baader-Meinhof Complex (2008)
A German-language film about the Red Army Faction far-left terrorists of the 1970s and 80s. I didn't really know what to expect going into this, it's 18-rated which I tend to be a bit wary of, and there was a lot of very graphic violence. But it was absolutely fascinating, it's not a documentary or a biopic but it is attempting to stay very close to the historical events, showing very clearly both the understandable and even virtuous motives of the RAF and their reasoning behind their actions and the extent to which they had public support - and also the devastation they caused and the destruction of lives eventually including their own. A really good unflinching look at terrorism, and at a segment of history that I have read a little of lately but not in depth.
Design For Living (1933)
A film I have heard about for years and never watched, the classic OT3 of all OT3s. Based - loosely - on the Noel Coward play of the same title, this is about Gilda and the two young men, George and Tom, she meets in a train compartment. George is a painter, Tom a playwright, Gilda a commercial artist, and after Gilda goes out with both men simultaneously, they end up living in a platonic menage a trois. However, this falls apart when Gilda sleeps with one of the two, and after that the narrative tries out all the dyads possible: Gilda and George, Gilda and Tom, then Gilda decides to try being respectable and marries Mr Impeccable Virtue and Three Square Meals Plunkett leaving George and Tom alone together - but none of the dyads work and eventually the three of them drive off into the sunset together. The film is hilarious and adorable and tremendous fun to watch, I highly recommend it. I found it on Youtube here if anyone else wants to enjoy a hilarious and sincerely OT3 romp. And I shall have to try to track down the play to see what the differences are.
In other film-related news, Cub spent his Christmas money on a small projector and screen and has created a mini beanbag cinema, and therefore has suddenly taken an interest in watching films - he always refused to watch films before and said he didn't like them at all. Now, watching films on your own is boring, but watching films with Mum is a lot more fun especially if Mum can be persuaded to provide snacks too. Anyway, Cub is quite cautious with films and doesn't want anything with too much in the way of gore, emotional distress or kissing, and he does like war stories, so older war films of the more sanitised but still exciting kind are right up his street. He had a wonderful time with The Great Escape and We Dive At Dawn and Angels One Five and The Colditz Story and The Guns of Navarone, he liked Ice Cold In Alex too though it had a bit more kissing than he really wanted, but when I tried him on Master & Commander for a change of pace (and no kissing!) he found the whole children having their arms amputated aspect, plus a suicide, a bit too upsetting and didn't sleep well afterwards, and also while I tried to persuade him that it represented the pinnacle of technology at the time he wasn't having it; he wanted engines! The Imitation Game got points for being a true story and about computers, though he found the multiple threads confusing. He thoroughly enjoyed Top Gun: Maverick which has just about an acceptable kissing:aircraft ratio and we've just started Mission Impossible though this also has slightly more kissing than he really wants but also superb action sequences. I'd like to try him on Star Trek but so far he has been very resistant to aliens and spaceships as far too unrealistic, he likes stories about things that relate to the real world or to history best - he asked me suspiciously if Mission Impossible was superheroes when I suggested it, and he is very anti anything that involves fantasy. Obviously at some point I will have to introduce him to Bond. And I'll happily take suggestions for other things, especially if they're available on BBC iPlayer or one of the other UK streaming TV services.
A 1960s-70s TV series about David Callan, government assassin. It seems not all of this survives, but some of it is available on DVD and we've been watching the black and white episodes. Some of them were evidently recovered in a slightly weird way and you get odd ghostly images and moments when the picture jumps slightly, but it didn't matter because it's very watchable. It's a tightly written, dark series about an unmentionable branch of the British government that does assassinations and other black ops. Callan is our expert, miserable, lonely assassin and general purpose operative, assigned to jobs like helping the Israelis abduct a Nazi war criminal for trial, or figuring out whether or not a young woman is about to leak nuclear secrets to the Soviets, or investigating the mysterious death of a French intelligence agent, or retrieving his new boss from East Germany through a minefield. Sometimes he's clearly doing something important, other times it's all a disaster, and when he can Callan makes his own decisions about who lives and who doesn't. The government department is extremely cold: they routinely torture people or question them under drugs, the commanding officer - always named Charley Hunter regardless of his actual name - has little regard for his men's safety or how many innocent people get hurt in the process of saving the nation, and Callan's fellow assassin is a very posh sadist. It's only by contrast with them that Callan is a nice guy. Callan's only friend is a shabby little petty thief known as Lonely who Callan bullies, insults and protects in equal degree and who can be relied upon to follow people, burgle houses, keep watch or know a fellow petty criminal who can do anything Callan wants done. In return Callan will fight anyone up to and including his fellow assassins and his boss to protect Lonely from harm, and also makes sure he eats and bathes occasionally. We've watched maybe a dozen of the episodes and they've all been very well done.
The Baader-Meinhof Complex (2008)
A German-language film about the Red Army Faction far-left terrorists of the 1970s and 80s. I didn't really know what to expect going into this, it's 18-rated which I tend to be a bit wary of, and there was a lot of very graphic violence. But it was absolutely fascinating, it's not a documentary or a biopic but it is attempting to stay very close to the historical events, showing very clearly both the understandable and even virtuous motives of the RAF and their reasoning behind their actions and the extent to which they had public support - and also the devastation they caused and the destruction of lives eventually including their own. A really good unflinching look at terrorism, and at a segment of history that I have read a little of lately but not in depth.
Design For Living (1933)
A film I have heard about for years and never watched, the classic OT3 of all OT3s. Based - loosely - on the Noel Coward play of the same title, this is about Gilda and the two young men, George and Tom, she meets in a train compartment. George is a painter, Tom a playwright, Gilda a commercial artist, and after Gilda goes out with both men simultaneously, they end up living in a platonic menage a trois. However, this falls apart when Gilda sleeps with one of the two, and after that the narrative tries out all the dyads possible: Gilda and George, Gilda and Tom, then Gilda decides to try being respectable and marries Mr Impeccable Virtue and Three Square Meals Plunkett leaving George and Tom alone together - but none of the dyads work and eventually the three of them drive off into the sunset together. The film is hilarious and adorable and tremendous fun to watch, I highly recommend it. I found it on Youtube here if anyone else wants to enjoy a hilarious and sincerely OT3 romp. And I shall have to try to track down the play to see what the differences are.
In other film-related news, Cub spent his Christmas money on a small projector and screen and has created a mini beanbag cinema, and therefore has suddenly taken an interest in watching films - he always refused to watch films before and said he didn't like them at all. Now, watching films on your own is boring, but watching films with Mum is a lot more fun especially if Mum can be persuaded to provide snacks too. Anyway, Cub is quite cautious with films and doesn't want anything with too much in the way of gore, emotional distress or kissing, and he does like war stories, so older war films of the more sanitised but still exciting kind are right up his street. He had a wonderful time with The Great Escape and We Dive At Dawn and Angels One Five and The Colditz Story and The Guns of Navarone, he liked Ice Cold In Alex too though it had a bit more kissing than he really wanted, but when I tried him on Master & Commander for a change of pace (and no kissing!) he found the whole children having their arms amputated aspect, plus a suicide, a bit too upsetting and didn't sleep well afterwards, and also while I tried to persuade him that it represented the pinnacle of technology at the time he wasn't having it; he wanted engines! The Imitation Game got points for being a true story and about computers, though he found the multiple threads confusing. He thoroughly enjoyed Top Gun: Maverick which has just about an acceptable kissing:aircraft ratio and we've just started Mission Impossible though this also has slightly more kissing than he really wants but also superb action sequences. I'd like to try him on Star Trek but so far he has been very resistant to aliens and spaceships as far too unrealistic, he likes stories about things that relate to the real world or to history best - he asked me suspiciously if Mission Impossible was superheroes when I suggested it, and he is very anti anything that involves fantasy. Obviously at some point I will have to introduce him to Bond. And I'll happily take suggestions for other things, especially if they're available on BBC iPlayer or one of the other UK streaming TV services.
Building 903, by Lois Lowry (DNF)
May. 7th, 2026 12:17 pmAn advance copy of a new book by Lois Lowry, author of The Giver and other classics. It is unfortunately basically the bad version of The Giver. In fact what it mostly reminded me of was
telophase's YA dystopia generator, which produces gems like Tweak: Sickness has been banned and the government controls shopping and Whimper: Cats have been banned and the government controls dancing the hustle. In the case of Building 903, books have been banned and the government controls popsicles. Yes, really.
In a future America ruled by a 200 year old dictator, books (ALL books), fiction, art, music, storytelling, playgrounds, live pets (robot pets are OK), free elections, religion, tattoos, matches and other fire-making tools, congregating in groups, iconoclastic clothing, travel, and eating meat or fish are banned. Old people, marriage, and popsicles are controlled by the government. Yes, really.
She leaned over, pushed the button that dispensed a frozen snack, and made a face when she saw it was green; she liked the orange ones better. But she peeled the covering from the green one and licked at it. I bet anything, Tessa thought, I could get Dad to invent a selector button so they wouldn't come out at random; I could choose orange. Or red: the red ones aren't bad. Then, though, the green ones would pile up, and it would be wasteful, I suppose, because no one would ever eat them.
To be fair, I'm just assuming the frozen snacks are popsicles. For all I know she's licking a piece of frozen broccoli.
Tessa's father and twin brother are supergeniuses. Tessa and her mother are just average. I did not care for this. Anyway, Tessa's brother vanishes and the book goes on and on and ON with nothing much happening. I skipped to the end.
( Read more... )
In a future America ruled by a 200 year old dictator, books (ALL books), fiction, art, music, storytelling, playgrounds, live pets (robot pets are OK), free elections, religion, tattoos, matches and other fire-making tools, congregating in groups, iconoclastic clothing, travel, and eating meat or fish are banned. Old people, marriage, and popsicles are controlled by the government. Yes, really.
She leaned over, pushed the button that dispensed a frozen snack, and made a face when she saw it was green; she liked the orange ones better. But she peeled the covering from the green one and licked at it. I bet anything, Tessa thought, I could get Dad to invent a selector button so they wouldn't come out at random; I could choose orange. Or red: the red ones aren't bad. Then, though, the green ones would pile up, and it would be wasteful, I suppose, because no one would ever eat them.
To be fair, I'm just assuming the frozen snacks are popsicles. For all I know she's licking a piece of frozen broccoli.
Tessa's father and twin brother are supergeniuses. Tessa and her mother are just average. I did not care for this. Anyway, Tessa's brother vanishes and the book goes on and on and ON with nothing much happening. I skipped to the end.
( Read more... )
Wednesday's comic
May. 6th, 2026 12:01 amhttps://www.girlgeniusonline.com/comic.php?date=20260506
An unexpected turn of events! (As is often the case.)
An unexpected turn of events! (As is often the case.)
Fic: Formless, Soundless
May. 5th, 2026 12:46 pmI wrote a Hikago fic for 5/5:
Title: Formless, Soundless
Rating: G
Wordcount: 3809
Characters/Relationships: Gen, outsider POV, ensemble
Contains: N/A
Summary: A Reddit user makes a post about the mysterious and unsolved case of the Go player only known as 'Sai' and discusses theories about their identity.
Link to AO3
Title: Formless, Soundless
Rating: G
Wordcount: 3809
Characters/Relationships: Gen, outsider POV, ensemble
Contains: N/A
Summary: A Reddit user makes a post about the mysterious and unsolved case of the Go player only known as 'Sai' and discusses theories about their identity.
Link to AO3
When We Were Real, by Daryl Gregory
May. 4th, 2026 12:06 pm
One day everyone in the world woke up with these words in front of their eyes, somehow inscribed in their inner eye: YOU ARE LIVING IN A SIMULATION. Simultaneously, a number of impossible things appeared on Earth, apparently to prove it: a frozen tornado, windows between continents, etc.
It's now seven years later. Those words still appear before everyone's eyes periodically. And tours have sprung up to take people to see the Impossibles, or at least as many as can be seen on a seven-day bus trip.
This extremely high-concept premise resembles that of The Measure in some ways: a world-spanning event, clearly real and equally clearly done by a more-than-human power, with immense existential implications, and with no one having any idea why it happened or why it happened now. But this is Daryl Gregory and he's very good with bizarre high-concept premises, and this book is excellent.
The other genre of When We Were Real is "set of random people thrown together" story. A number of the characters are, at least on the surface, straight out of a 1930s train story or a 1970s airplane story: two nuns, a rabbi, a pregnant woman, an elderly woman in a wheelchair and her devoted daughter, a set of elderly tourists, a person who's secretly dying, a person with a secret identity, a fugitive from the law. The only stock character it's missing is the cute child.
The many characters are very human and likable, with even the most frustrating of them having reasons for being the way they are; the annoying pregnant influencer's reason for being an annoying influencer turns out to be both sympathetic and heartbreaking. (Yes, it's partly to provide for her upcoming baby, but the real question is "Why an influencer rather than some other job?")
( Read more... )
The Impossibles themselves are excellent. My favorite was the time tunnel, where you can stay an infinite amount of subjective time (you get a home pulled out of your own history or desires, plus fresh-baked bread every morning) and emerge several hundred miles away, only a second having passed outside. But the flock of non-real sheep was pretty great too.
There's serious themes - existentialism, mortality, meaning, God, ethics, love - but delivered with a light touch. It's more plotty than I expected, given the quest/picaresque structure, and the story is very satisfying. You don't get answers to all the questions, but you do get a general outline as to what's going on and why. It's a very human and humane novel, of the moment but in a good way.
Content notes: Cancer. Plans for suicide due to terminal illness. Pregnancy and birthing issues. Violence.
Characters we have met in real life: Mansfield Park
May. 4th, 2026 12:44 pmTom Bertram on being upbraided by his father for getting into debt to such an extent that his extremely wealthy father can't get him it out of it without selling the living promised to his younger son.
“I blush for you, Tom,” said [Sir Thomas], in his most dignified manner; “I blush for the expedient which I am driven on, and I trust I may pity your feelings as a brother on the occasion. You have robbed Edmund for ten, twenty, thirty years, perhaps for life, of more than half the income which ought to be his. It may hereafter be in my power, or in yours (I hope it will), to procure him better preferment; but it must not be forgotten that no benefit of that sort would have been beyond his natural claims on us, and that nothing can, in fact, be an equivalent for the certain advantage which he is now obliged to forego through the urgency of your debts.”
Tom listened with some shame and some sorrow; but escaping as quickly as possible, could soon with cheerful selfishness reflect, 1st, that he had not been half so much in debt as some of his friends; 2dly, that his father had made a most tiresome piece of work of it; and, 3dly, that the future incumbent, whoever he might be, would, in all probability, die very soon.
We've all met Tom. We've probably all been Tom to some extent, but usually aged more about 5 than 25. Unfortunately, one can think of people who retain this characteristic many decades later in life.
It's also interesting to see the ordinal adverbs not spelt out as "firstly" etc, which one would expect from a modern novel.
Anyway, I have just restarted reading Mansfield Park. It's been well over a decade since I last did, and Austen seemed a good option for my current project of making an effort to read more for relaxation.
“I blush for you, Tom,” said [Sir Thomas], in his most dignified manner; “I blush for the expedient which I am driven on, and I trust I may pity your feelings as a brother on the occasion. You have robbed Edmund for ten, twenty, thirty years, perhaps for life, of more than half the income which ought to be his. It may hereafter be in my power, or in yours (I hope it will), to procure him better preferment; but it must not be forgotten that no benefit of that sort would have been beyond his natural claims on us, and that nothing can, in fact, be an equivalent for the certain advantage which he is now obliged to forego through the urgency of your debts.”
Tom listened with some shame and some sorrow; but escaping as quickly as possible, could soon with cheerful selfishness reflect, 1st, that he had not been half so much in debt as some of his friends; 2dly, that his father had made a most tiresome piece of work of it; and, 3dly, that the future incumbent, whoever he might be, would, in all probability, die very soon.
We've all met Tom. We've probably all been Tom to some extent, but usually aged more about 5 than 25. Unfortunately, one can think of people who retain this characteristic many decades later in life.
It's also interesting to see the ordinal adverbs not spelt out as "firstly" etc, which one would expect from a modern novel.
Anyway, I have just restarted reading Mansfield Park. It's been well over a decade since I last did, and Austen seemed a good option for my current project of making an effort to read more for relaxation.
The Jewish War: Book 7
May. 3rd, 2026 02:20 pmThe last book!
Last week: Astrological phenomena and the star of Bethlehem. Messianic (?) prophecy about Vespasian. Brutality of the siege, and discussion of the law of war protecting prisoners from the enemy army (or lack thereof). Imperator.
This week: Book 7. Wrapping up of the war. The Masada fortress and group suicide (which I think is interesting to think about given the discussion we had a few books back). The temple of Onias. (Dedicated commment threads for both of these below, for anyone who wants to join in!)
Yay book club, thank you everyone!
Last week: Astrological phenomena and the star of Bethlehem. Messianic (?) prophecy about Vespasian. Brutality of the siege, and discussion of the law of war protecting prisoners from the enemy army (or lack thereof). Imperator.
This week: Book 7. Wrapping up of the war. The Masada fortress and group suicide (which I think is interesting to think about given the discussion we had a few books back). The temple of Onias. (Dedicated commment threads for both of these below, for anyone who wants to join in!)
Yay book club, thank you everyone!
(no subject)
May. 2nd, 2026 04:55 pmWhen I say that reading Aster Glenn Gray's Diary of a Cranky Bookworm feels like spending several delightful hours with an old friend, this is just about the least surprising statement in the world I could possibly make, because:
a.) Aster is indeed a longtime friend, and also
b.) both the book and Sage-as-protagonist are drawing explicit inspiration from many other teen-girl-writer bildungsromans (I Capture the Castle, the Montmaray trilogy, the collected oeuvre of LM Montgomery, etc.) that are beloved old friends to me, and also
c.) every character and interpersonal dynamic in this book does indeed feel like an exact portrait of someone I either was or knew in high school, with pitch-perfect and sometimes painful accuracy
Sage Perrault, Our Heroine, is an imaginative, judgmental misanthrope from a small town in Minnesota who was fortunate enough to form a small tight friends group in elementary school who also proved themselves worthy of her affection by being precocious readers:
- Georgie, Sage's best friend since kindergarten, when her mother (terrified of Sage becoming a miserable loner like Gay Cousin Rachel who Never Comes Home For Christmas) seized on the other precocious reader in class and started arranging playdates with feverish speed. Sensible, driven, raised by an overprotective mom who never got out of town and is thus double determined to Get Out Of Town. Friends outside of Sage: church youth group
- Arielle, the dramatic friend, with inattentive divorced parents, a moderate case of main character syndrome, and a rich life of the imagination often expressed through implausible lies about her past. Passionate in her enthusiasms but will not stop obnoxiously sending you fanfiction that you do not care about. Friends outside of Sage: drama club
- Hilary, the chillest friend; always delighted to run with any bit that she's given and make it more fun and funny, but holds her own emotional cards close to the chest. Has a very nice boyfriend and never talks about him. Wonderful to hang out with at any time but is planning for pre-med so will almost certainly be far too busy to stay in close touch with anyone when they scatter. Friends outside of Sage: almost the entire school, everyone loves Hilary because she's a delight, and the fact that she chooses to eat lunch with Sage and Hilary and Arielle is frankly a great compliment to all of them
This has left Sage peacefully free to hold onto grudges also formed in elementary school, continue happily hating the kids in her class that she has hated since they were all eight, and avoid going through the effort of speaking to anybody else. Unfortunately, it's senior year! College is looming, and with it new tensions and unpleasant questions, such as:
- can being a precocious reader really continue as the be-all and end-all of Sage's perception of her own self-worth? and how can she write a college essay about it?
- how much of what Arielle's told them all about her plans for college is normal bad ideas, and how much is outright lies, and how much is in fact a cry for help?
- how can Sage break it to beloved best friend Georgie that she doesn't want to go to the U [University of Minnesota Twin Cities], which is the ultimate apex of Georgie's ambitions, and instead kind of wants to attend a small liberal arts college somewhere in the middle of nowhere?
- but if she doesn't go to college with Georgie, will she ever successfully speak to another human being?
- and on that topic, is it possible that a Longtime Beautiful Enemy is in fact a human being worth talking to, to despite the fact that she's bad at spelling and was mean in middle school?
Sage, early on: Arielle always tries to blow on whatever flickering embers of bisexuality she finds within herself, which I admire. I'd be far more inclined to play Whack-A-Mole. And obviously part of the book is also that Sage has to stop playing Whack-A-Mole, but the big emotional question of the Longtime Beautiful Enemy subplot is less "will they kiss" [though they do, eventually] than "can Sage build an emotional connection with a new person, at the same time as she's facing fundamental shifts in all her other most important relationships?" At its heart this is a book about friendship in all its different shapes, the different kinds of ties you build with different people and the way those change with you as you grow.
And also, of course, about being judgmental about books and films and art. There's a whole other conversation that I feel like I've been coincidentally having in various different contexts about the purpose of the literary cross-reference in this sort of text; I am definitely one of the people for whom there's a profound self-indulgent pleasure in watching characters react to another work [Kage Baker's infamous Cyborgs Watch D.W. Griffith scene my beloved; what a bad idea to spend a whole chapter on it and what a delight it was for me personally] as long as I don't believe that the author believes that all right-thinking people should agree with the character's opinions. Fortunately I am in no danger of this with Sage. Sage has a LOT of opinions about books and films and art, and I disagree with many of them but so do many of Sage's friends; this, too, is one of the important shapes of friendship.
a.) Aster is indeed a longtime friend, and also
b.) both the book and Sage-as-protagonist are drawing explicit inspiration from many other teen-girl-writer bildungsromans (I Capture the Castle, the Montmaray trilogy, the collected oeuvre of LM Montgomery, etc.) that are beloved old friends to me, and also
c.) every character and interpersonal dynamic in this book does indeed feel like an exact portrait of someone I either was or knew in high school, with pitch-perfect and sometimes painful accuracy
Sage Perrault, Our Heroine, is an imaginative, judgmental misanthrope from a small town in Minnesota who was fortunate enough to form a small tight friends group in elementary school who also proved themselves worthy of her affection by being precocious readers:
- Georgie, Sage's best friend since kindergarten, when her mother (terrified of Sage becoming a miserable loner like Gay Cousin Rachel who Never Comes Home For Christmas) seized on the other precocious reader in class and started arranging playdates with feverish speed. Sensible, driven, raised by an overprotective mom who never got out of town and is thus double determined to Get Out Of Town. Friends outside of Sage: church youth group
- Arielle, the dramatic friend, with inattentive divorced parents, a moderate case of main character syndrome, and a rich life of the imagination often expressed through implausible lies about her past. Passionate in her enthusiasms but will not stop obnoxiously sending you fanfiction that you do not care about. Friends outside of Sage: drama club
- Hilary, the chillest friend; always delighted to run with any bit that she's given and make it more fun and funny, but holds her own emotional cards close to the chest. Has a very nice boyfriend and never talks about him. Wonderful to hang out with at any time but is planning for pre-med so will almost certainly be far too busy to stay in close touch with anyone when they scatter. Friends outside of Sage: almost the entire school, everyone loves Hilary because she's a delight, and the fact that she chooses to eat lunch with Sage and Hilary and Arielle is frankly a great compliment to all of them
This has left Sage peacefully free to hold onto grudges also formed in elementary school, continue happily hating the kids in her class that she has hated since they were all eight, and avoid going through the effort of speaking to anybody else. Unfortunately, it's senior year! College is looming, and with it new tensions and unpleasant questions, such as:
- can being a precocious reader really continue as the be-all and end-all of Sage's perception of her own self-worth? and how can she write a college essay about it?
- how much of what Arielle's told them all about her plans for college is normal bad ideas, and how much is outright lies, and how much is in fact a cry for help?
- how can Sage break it to beloved best friend Georgie that she doesn't want to go to the U [University of Minnesota Twin Cities], which is the ultimate apex of Georgie's ambitions, and instead kind of wants to attend a small liberal arts college somewhere in the middle of nowhere?
- but if she doesn't go to college with Georgie, will she ever successfully speak to another human being?
- and on that topic, is it possible that a Longtime Beautiful Enemy is in fact a human being worth talking to, to despite the fact that she's bad at spelling and was mean in middle school?
Sage, early on: Arielle always tries to blow on whatever flickering embers of bisexuality she finds within herself, which I admire. I'd be far more inclined to play Whack-A-Mole. And obviously part of the book is also that Sage has to stop playing Whack-A-Mole, but the big emotional question of the Longtime Beautiful Enemy subplot is less "will they kiss" [though they do, eventually] than "can Sage build an emotional connection with a new person, at the same time as she's facing fundamental shifts in all her other most important relationships?" At its heart this is a book about friendship in all its different shapes, the different kinds of ties you build with different people and the way those change with you as you grow.
And also, of course, about being judgmental about books and films and art. There's a whole other conversation that I feel like I've been coincidentally having in various different contexts about the purpose of the literary cross-reference in this sort of text; I am definitely one of the people for whom there's a profound self-indulgent pleasure in watching characters react to another work [Kage Baker's infamous Cyborgs Watch D.W. Griffith scene my beloved; what a bad idea to spend a whole chapter on it and what a delight it was for me personally] as long as I don't believe that the author believes that all right-thinking people should agree with the character's opinions. Fortunately I am in no danger of this with Sage. Sage has a LOT of opinions about books and films and art, and I disagree with many of them but so do many of Sage's friends; this, too, is one of the important shapes of friendship.
A Set of Sequels: Sovereign, by April Daniels & Prison of Sleep, by Tim Pratt
May. 2nd, 2026 12:04 pm
This picks up when Danny's been Dreadnought for a while, and is getting a bit too into the violent aspects of the job. This aspect is quite well done - you understand what's going on with her, but it actually is a bit unsettling. Also, Valkyrja reappears, sort of; an evil techbro wreaks havoc; a TERF is threatening the world; and Danny works on her relationships.
I liked this more than the first book. Danny developed as a character and spent a lot less time being abused by transphobes. I'll grab the third book when it comes out.

The sequel isn't as good as the first book, unfortunately. I'd have been happy with more of Zax, Minna, and Vicky exploring the multiverse, but this book is much more plot-driven and Minna and Vicky only show up three-quarters of the way through. Half or more of the book is narrated by a new character whose identity I'll leave out as it's spoilery for the first book. She was fine as a character but her storyline was less interesting. Zax gets a new companion, and I did quite enjoy his adventures with her. I also enjoyed Minna and Vicky when they finally appeared.
But the plot-driven parts were less interesting, and the structure was really odd and not in a way that benefited the book. Instead of picking up where the first book left off, we get a retrospective summary of what happened some time after that point, then we get the entire backstory of the non-Zax narrator bringing her up to the point where she meets Zax in the first book, then it jumps forward and we get what's happening to her now, then we catch up with what Zax is doing now, and then, about three quarters of the way in, we finally get the story of what happened immediately after the first book left off. I think it would have worked better to tell the story more linearly. And also, to have much more Minna.
It's not a bad book and it does have some really good parts, but there are some baffling choices made.
it turns out I have more to say about books I dislike than books I like
May. 2nd, 2026 11:59 am1913: The World before the Great War, Charles Emmerson
This was a good, fairly light, snapshot of the world just before the outbreak of WW1. Emmerson selects a range of cities around the world, starting and ending in London and crossing Europe, North and South America, the Middle East and some of Asia, with a brief glimpse of Melbourne, Algiers and Durban for Oceania and Africa, and gives a summary of their political and social situations in 1913, often with an overview of the history of each place. For getting a good overall image of the relations between various parts of the world, especially between England and her empire, it's an excellent book, and I learned something especially about the Argentina-UK connection that comes up so often in novels of this period and a bit later, and also I enjoyed the German tourist's guide to London in 1913. Of course there are thousands and thousands more things the author could have included, but it's a fun read.
Hawthorn: a Scottish ghost story, Elaine Thomson
Aka the bog trauma story. This was very readable, though rather languidly paced. Our hero Robert Sutherland is working with a team making the first Ordnance Survey map of Scotland, only he falls in a bog and then onwards his life becomes weird. And very full of swooning, at least three quarters of the book is him swooning, having hallucinations, fevers and other problems, while milling about waiting for the plot to happen. I would have liked more map-making, which is more flavouring than part of the story, and it would have been nice to have more female characters who weren't evil or dead, and I feel like it could have committed harder to the ending of discrediting Sutherland for extra horrific interest. But there really was an excellent amount of manly swooning.
The Riddle of the Sands, Erskine Childers (available here at Project Gutenberg)
One of the oldest of the spy novel genre, written in 1903. I found this tremendously fun to read, unexpectedly hilarious and delightful, not so much for the plot as for the two main characters, Carruthers and Davies, and their fabulous odd-couple adventures sailing around the German coastline trying to figure out what the dastardly Germans are up to. Carruthers, fastidious, cynical, very posh and clever, and Davies, straightforward, enthusiastic, loyal, and brilliant at sailing but rubbish at intrigue - the book is written in the first person from Carruthers' perspective and I adore his narrative voice, he is clearly an absolute nightmare in many ways but with a saving dose of self-awareness and a genuine and growing affection for Davies and his very different virtues. There are tons of references to maps and charts and the interested reader can follow along with every nautical detail of the story, but I was not interested in the nautical details except in the superb competence kink in Davies' navigational skills. Luckily Carruthers also doesn't understand most of the nautical details and so the reader can keep up as much as they need to. I did get a bit lost in the details of the plot, but I didn't mind because I was having fun with the Davies/Carruthers show. I also watched the 1979 Michael York film, which was good fun: it elides a lot of the plot, but leans in nicely to the Davies/Carruthers dynamic, though I am not quite able to cope with film!Davies's giant moustache. But film!Carruthers is perfect; the shopping list sequence is hilarious in the film and even more hilarious in the book. This might be fun to request for Yuletide to see if anyone wants to write me some actual Davies/Carruthers, too.
Midnight in Vienna and Appointment in Paris, Jane Thynne
WW2 spy novel series. These were inexplicably readable and I am trying to work out why. The plots were weak and the characters pretty two-dimensional, most of the characters were either real people or straight from Central Casting (would you like a mildly alcoholic private investigator with a failed romantic life and a problem with authority? of course you would. would you like to guess what kind of WW1 experience he had? you won't need two guesses. would you like to guess whether or not he is ruggedly handsome and inexplicably attractive to women who as we know love a low-life boozer?). The narrative was fluid and easy to ride along with, but a lot of the interest for me was in the fact that the author has lifted great chunks of her story from a variety of the history books I've read over the past few years, especially the complete works of Helen Fry, who probably should have a co-author credit for the second novel. And, as I said, most of the characters are real people: Thynne never bothers to invent a character when she can just use Noel Coward or Dorothy Sayers or Maxwell Knight or some other poor sod. The plot is weak: again, Thynne just uses real events and hitches her plot to them, but there's very little suspense or sense of danger or excitement, the characters have little interest in or awareness of the stakes and mostly spend their time wondering why they're even getting mixed up in this business. 'Um, I had a hunch' is a key plot motivator in both books, used so often the author unconvincingly lampshades it a few times. The heroine's assorted romantic options are a large chunk of the plot: her Viennese former fiance, her fellow student at Oxford turned refugee, her best friend's brother who happens to be Churchill's aide, and of course our inexplicably attractive to women piece of rough, the hero. No doubt she will shack up with the hero after extensively exploring all the other options over the course of multiple books. In fact, the two lead character and their dynamic are also not original, being 2D versions of Cormoran Strike and Robin Ellacott, transplanted to 1940 and with connections to the security services. The period setting is pretty well done, superficial but filled in at least a few degrees better than the popular press version of WW2. The second book's plot was particularly weak: for most of the book our heroes were running around on the basis that there was a German spy ring infiltrating Trent Park - which is a great concept - but then at the end it's oh no there is no German spy ring at all, we picked up the German spies the day they arrived for being Very Bad Spies and probably Canaris is sending Very Bad Spies on purpose because he wants Hitler to lose. Which is historically accurate, but when the plot of your spy thriller novel is 'catch the German spies before they reveal our very important secret' then saying 'oh no actually there aren't any spies' at the end is a pretty major cop-out. If you were writing a much darker and more serious novel about how spy work is pointless and people run around frantically and suffer for no reason and no gain at all, then this would have been a perfect ending: Le Carre could have pulled it off, but this was not even remotely that kind of book, this is your basic frothy romantic suspense wartime adventure, and in this kind of book you have to play the plot straight, or if there are twists they have to be the sort of twists that make it more exciting, not less exciting. So: the author's done her homework and the period setting is decent, the romance is nice and the narrative carries you along without requiring any actual thought, but the plot is not very well constructed.
No 2 Whitehall Court, Alan Judd
Another attempt to find some good WW1 spy adventures: this one features a female agent, Emily Grey, a linguist who is seconded to work for the fledgling MI6 under its famous head C, Mansfield Cummings. The author of this book knows his stuff, he's written a biography of C and there's evidence of plenty of research--but that is the problem with this book. Or one of the problems, anyway. Again, half the characters are real people, and I'm increasingly thinking that this is a mistake in this sort of fiction, because our heroine and POV character can't really have relationships with them. She's observing them without having an impact on them, and when your main character can't have any kind of relationship other than historical observer with many of your other key characters, the novel suffers. And that is the problem with this book: it's flat, plodding, the prose is leaden, the characters atomised, and considering that it's sold as a WW1 spy thriller, it's almost totally lacking in any kind of thrills. About the closest we get to suspense is when Emily starts to suspect that someone is following her - and someone is, it's MI5 to keep an eye on her in a completely harmless way and it all ends in farce. In general the farce was the best bit of this book: Emily is given a hapless failed Marine named Nigel to be her general fixer and bodyguard, and Nigel is absolutely shit at his job in almost every way and also is very believably chauvinistic and patronising towards Emily despite his obvious incompetence. This was where the story came to life - the sequence where Emily and Nigel are on a warship heading for Rotterdam and Nigel is a complete nuisance with far too much luggage was all hilarious - but there were never really any consequences from Nigel's incompetence, Emily is only very mildly annoyed by it and in the end Nigel gets to be a hero and save the day revealing an entire hitherto unmentioned bit of supreme competence. Otherwise, the real villain is telegraphed so hard you can see it from space, which meant that by the time the characters finally caught up with the reader, the overwhelming feeling was 'took you long enough' rather than 'oh wow, I didn't see that coming but it makes so much sense' - the latter being what any half-decent writer of a thriller is aiming for. The spy plot and depiction of how spying worked was all rock solid - as I said, the author's done his research, he knows how all this worked in reality, but what he doesn't know is how to take these historical realities and turn them into a tense, interesting, characterful plot. I was deeply surprised to learn that Judd's written many previous spy thrillers many of which have excellent reviews, I would have taken this to be a first attempt at fiction by a history geek. Anyway, the further this book got from repeating bits of history, the better it was as a novel, which is why the horrible Nigel was the best bit. But I'll definitely go take a look at his non-fiction now.
This was a good, fairly light, snapshot of the world just before the outbreak of WW1. Emmerson selects a range of cities around the world, starting and ending in London and crossing Europe, North and South America, the Middle East and some of Asia, with a brief glimpse of Melbourne, Algiers and Durban for Oceania and Africa, and gives a summary of their political and social situations in 1913, often with an overview of the history of each place. For getting a good overall image of the relations between various parts of the world, especially between England and her empire, it's an excellent book, and I learned something especially about the Argentina-UK connection that comes up so often in novels of this period and a bit later, and also I enjoyed the German tourist's guide to London in 1913. Of course there are thousands and thousands more things the author could have included, but it's a fun read.
Hawthorn: a Scottish ghost story, Elaine Thomson
Aka the bog trauma story. This was very readable, though rather languidly paced. Our hero Robert Sutherland is working with a team making the first Ordnance Survey map of Scotland, only he falls in a bog and then onwards his life becomes weird. And very full of swooning, at least three quarters of the book is him swooning, having hallucinations, fevers and other problems, while milling about waiting for the plot to happen. I would have liked more map-making, which is more flavouring than part of the story, and it would have been nice to have more female characters who weren't evil or dead, and I feel like it could have committed harder to the ending of discrediting Sutherland for extra horrific interest. But there really was an excellent amount of manly swooning.
The Riddle of the Sands, Erskine Childers (available here at Project Gutenberg)
One of the oldest of the spy novel genre, written in 1903. I found this tremendously fun to read, unexpectedly hilarious and delightful, not so much for the plot as for the two main characters, Carruthers and Davies, and their fabulous odd-couple adventures sailing around the German coastline trying to figure out what the dastardly Germans are up to. Carruthers, fastidious, cynical, very posh and clever, and Davies, straightforward, enthusiastic, loyal, and brilliant at sailing but rubbish at intrigue - the book is written in the first person from Carruthers' perspective and I adore his narrative voice, he is clearly an absolute nightmare in many ways but with a saving dose of self-awareness and a genuine and growing affection for Davies and his very different virtues. There are tons of references to maps and charts and the interested reader can follow along with every nautical detail of the story, but I was not interested in the nautical details except in the superb competence kink in Davies' navigational skills. Luckily Carruthers also doesn't understand most of the nautical details and so the reader can keep up as much as they need to. I did get a bit lost in the details of the plot, but I didn't mind because I was having fun with the Davies/Carruthers show. I also watched the 1979 Michael York film, which was good fun: it elides a lot of the plot, but leans in nicely to the Davies/Carruthers dynamic, though I am not quite able to cope with film!Davies's giant moustache. But film!Carruthers is perfect; the shopping list sequence is hilarious in the film and even more hilarious in the book. This might be fun to request for Yuletide to see if anyone wants to write me some actual Davies/Carruthers, too.
Midnight in Vienna and Appointment in Paris, Jane Thynne
WW2 spy novel series. These were inexplicably readable and I am trying to work out why. The plots were weak and the characters pretty two-dimensional, most of the characters were either real people or straight from Central Casting (would you like a mildly alcoholic private investigator with a failed romantic life and a problem with authority? of course you would. would you like to guess what kind of WW1 experience he had? you won't need two guesses. would you like to guess whether or not he is ruggedly handsome and inexplicably attractive to women who as we know love a low-life boozer?). The narrative was fluid and easy to ride along with, but a lot of the interest for me was in the fact that the author has lifted great chunks of her story from a variety of the history books I've read over the past few years, especially the complete works of Helen Fry, who probably should have a co-author credit for the second novel. And, as I said, most of the characters are real people: Thynne never bothers to invent a character when she can just use Noel Coward or Dorothy Sayers or Maxwell Knight or some other poor sod. The plot is weak: again, Thynne just uses real events and hitches her plot to them, but there's very little suspense or sense of danger or excitement, the characters have little interest in or awareness of the stakes and mostly spend their time wondering why they're even getting mixed up in this business. 'Um, I had a hunch' is a key plot motivator in both books, used so often the author unconvincingly lampshades it a few times. The heroine's assorted romantic options are a large chunk of the plot: her Viennese former fiance, her fellow student at Oxford turned refugee, her best friend's brother who happens to be Churchill's aide, and of course our inexplicably attractive to women piece of rough, the hero. No doubt she will shack up with the hero after extensively exploring all the other options over the course of multiple books. In fact, the two lead character and their dynamic are also not original, being 2D versions of Cormoran Strike and Robin Ellacott, transplanted to 1940 and with connections to the security services. The period setting is pretty well done, superficial but filled in at least a few degrees better than the popular press version of WW2. The second book's plot was particularly weak: for most of the book our heroes were running around on the basis that there was a German spy ring infiltrating Trent Park - which is a great concept - but then at the end it's oh no there is no German spy ring at all, we picked up the German spies the day they arrived for being Very Bad Spies and probably Canaris is sending Very Bad Spies on purpose because he wants Hitler to lose. Which is historically accurate, but when the plot of your spy thriller novel is 'catch the German spies before they reveal our very important secret' then saying 'oh no actually there aren't any spies' at the end is a pretty major cop-out. If you were writing a much darker and more serious novel about how spy work is pointless and people run around frantically and suffer for no reason and no gain at all, then this would have been a perfect ending: Le Carre could have pulled it off, but this was not even remotely that kind of book, this is your basic frothy romantic suspense wartime adventure, and in this kind of book you have to play the plot straight, or if there are twists they have to be the sort of twists that make it more exciting, not less exciting. So: the author's done her homework and the period setting is decent, the romance is nice and the narrative carries you along without requiring any actual thought, but the plot is not very well constructed.
No 2 Whitehall Court, Alan Judd
Another attempt to find some good WW1 spy adventures: this one features a female agent, Emily Grey, a linguist who is seconded to work for the fledgling MI6 under its famous head C, Mansfield Cummings. The author of this book knows his stuff, he's written a biography of C and there's evidence of plenty of research--but that is the problem with this book. Or one of the problems, anyway. Again, half the characters are real people, and I'm increasingly thinking that this is a mistake in this sort of fiction, because our heroine and POV character can't really have relationships with them. She's observing them without having an impact on them, and when your main character can't have any kind of relationship other than historical observer with many of your other key characters, the novel suffers. And that is the problem with this book: it's flat, plodding, the prose is leaden, the characters atomised, and considering that it's sold as a WW1 spy thriller, it's almost totally lacking in any kind of thrills. About the closest we get to suspense is when Emily starts to suspect that someone is following her - and someone is, it's MI5 to keep an eye on her in a completely harmless way and it all ends in farce. In general the farce was the best bit of this book: Emily is given a hapless failed Marine named Nigel to be her general fixer and bodyguard, and Nigel is absolutely shit at his job in almost every way and also is very believably chauvinistic and patronising towards Emily despite his obvious incompetence. This was where the story came to life - the sequence where Emily and Nigel are on a warship heading for Rotterdam and Nigel is a complete nuisance with far too much luggage was all hilarious - but there were never really any consequences from Nigel's incompetence, Emily is only very mildly annoyed by it and in the end Nigel gets to be a hero and save the day revealing an entire hitherto unmentioned bit of supreme competence. Otherwise, the real villain is telegraphed so hard you can see it from space, which meant that by the time the characters finally caught up with the reader, the overwhelming feeling was 'took you long enough' rather than 'oh wow, I didn't see that coming but it makes so much sense' - the latter being what any half-decent writer of a thriller is aiming for. The spy plot and depiction of how spying worked was all rock solid - as I said, the author's done his research, he knows how all this worked in reality, but what he doesn't know is how to take these historical realities and turn them into a tense, interesting, characterful plot. I was deeply surprised to learn that Judd's written many previous spy thrillers many of which have excellent reviews, I would have taken this to be a first attempt at fiction by a history geek. Anyway, the further this book got from repeating bits of history, the better it was as a novel, which is why the horrible Nigel was the best bit. But I'll definitely go take a look at his non-fiction now.