Hux
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Posts posted by Hux
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I really enjoyed this when I read it, especially the psychological aspect of Laurent's scar tormenting him.
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21 minutes ago, Raven said:
I take your point, to a point, but Star Trek is also about things blowing up (see: The Wrath of Khan, The Best of Both Worlds, most of Deep Space Nine etc..).
I believe Strange New Worlds may be more in line with your expectations, from what they have been saying about it.
A mixture of the two is required. DS9 actually had very few explosions (they couldn't afford the CGI) and great portions of the war were only referred to rather than actually seen.
Meanwhile, this was Discovery.
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2 hours ago, Raven said:
The shows are both definitely Star Trek; I just think both have just suffered - certainly in the last year or so - from poor writing and a lack of a clear identity and/or direction.
Star Trek is about exploring worlds and ideas and solving ethical or philosophical dilemmas. Discovery and Picard are about things blowing up and ninjas.
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The Umbrella Academy (Netflix) and The Boys (Amazon) were both superb.
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1 hour ago, Raven said:
After that - in the films - Picard does seem to be a lot closer to the rest of the crew, and especially Data in both First Contact and Nemesis.
Closer, but not to the extent that he would go on a death defying mission to save Data. I would think the Federation becoming a hive of xenophobes might a more urgent concern for him.
This show, like Discovery, has only the most wafer thin connections to Star Trek. The original shows had an identity which made the world stand out in sci-fi but now it essentially looks the same as all the other sci-fi shows (The expanse, The 100, Lost in Space, Dark Matter). I'd like to see them meet some aliens and grapple with ethical dilemmas but instead, it's just a lot of pew pew pew and explosions.
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Putting this in Chick Lit makes sense. Because that's what this book really is despite it's awarded winning hype.
In terms of the actual writing it was mostly enjoyable but my, the hype was not justified. At the very minimum I expect a book to be an enjoyable read.
This was a Mills and Boon romance novel for the contemporary age. Every time a book like this wins awards and gets praise, I come to the conclusion that modern books are written for the growing demographic of people who... don't actually like reading books. Firstly, there's nothing remotely 'normal' about these two characters. I'll skip over the predictably dream-like otherness of Marianne and focus on the utterly non-existent Connell. I'm sorry ladies, but that guy (calm, thoughtful, caring, emotionally mature, intellectually honest, culturally sensitive, performatively left-wing, etc) only exists in the heads of women -- women writers in particular. Connell isn't just these things by the end of the book. No, he's these things from the very start, as a teenager. You know, like most teenage boys are.
These two people are highly popular, good looking, the smartest in school, having regular sex, and are apparently off to university where they'll be going travelling around Europe and becoming writers. Normal people, you say?
I was genuinely quite irritated but this book. It's everything I hate in fiction. I was half-expecting a final chapter to reveal that Marianne was sexually assaulted as a child (perhaps by her father, maybe even by her cartoonishly evil, moustache twirling brother) but thankfully, that didn't happen. I was also slightly offended by the implication that women (or men, for that matter) who enjoy rough sex have some kind of underlying mental health problem. I did, however, like the ending. These two millennial idiots can't seem to communicate their feelings. Even at the end when she tells him she's going to New York, they can't adequately express themselves. I do wonder what point Rooney was making though. It's not as if her generation are famous for being emotionally closed off. If anything young people are more prone to expressing their feelings than any other previous generation. Maybe she was criticising that - modern people sleep with everyone without consequences but... gulp... maybe there actually are consequences. Sigh.
I honestly couldn't tell if the book's title was ironic or if it was a clever twist on those awful romance novels (what if, instead of a pirate and a curvy wench, it was a saucy romance between two... normal people). Geddit?
This is an airport book. That's fine but airport books shouldn't be winning literary prizes.
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The Map and the Territory.
My second book by Houellebecq, and while it wasn't as good as Atomised, it was, nonetheless, a wonderful reading experience and frankly, a damn sight more creative and interesting than most of the turgid contemporary novels I mistakenly read because they're nominated for Booker prizes.
The book is about an artist called Jed who seeks to paint the famous writer, you guessed it, Michel Houellebecq. I enjoyed Houellebecq making himself a character, and especially enjoyed the moments when he mocked his own character (at one point he muses on whether Houellebecq might be a paedophile).
I'll put the final third of the book in spoilers because I honestly didn't see the it coming.
SpoilerIn the final part of the book, the famous writer Michel Houellebecq is brutally murdered. Decapitated no less. His murder is not especially important in terms of the plot, or who did it (no-one especially significant), it's more the fact that it's a curious exploration of celebrity and death, Houellebecq's using his own fame as a device for looking at those themes.
Frankly, this book, though not being anything profound, was significantly more fun and enjoyable to read than most of the contemporary stuff I read these days. Original and thought-provoking. I will definitely seek out more of his work.
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The only contemporary writer that really resonates with me.
Atomised.
This was the first book of his I read having previously only known him through reputation, namely that of being a racist misogynist (though in today's climate that applies to people who make the 'okay' hand gesture so I'll take that with a pinch of salt). I'm not sure what all the fuss is about; he describes sex. What of it? Anyway, I absolutely loved this. It was like being nourished by food, a feeling I haven't had while reading for quite some time. My interest was waning somewhat by the final third but that tends to happen with every book (all books, in my opinion being longer than they need to be). It picked up again after that and was a delight. My only criticism would be the epilogue. It essentially transforms the novel from a story about brothers to a peculiar science fiction romp that wasn't remotely necessary. I could have done without that in truth.
The story is essentially two half brothers (Bruno and Michel) who have no real bond until adulthood. Bruno is obsessed with sex while Michel is almost asexual with only an interest in his scientific work. I must say, I found it hard to believe Michel as a character but complete understood Bruno. That may say more about me.
I'm not sure what Houellebecq was trying to say by giving the two women in the brother's lives such tragic endings. Maybe that's where the misogyny accusation comes from. He seems to be suggesting that their sexual freedom is the very thing that has ruined their lives and left them unfulfilled as women. To be fair, that seems to be exactly what Sally Rooney was also saying in 'Normal People' too yet I doubt she gets accused of being a misogynist. The book is clearly about our 'atomised' western societies and how we have lost meaning so I'm not sure the criticism is valid. It's kinda the point.
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This is my film of the year (last year). Very metaphysical and fascinating.
I wouldn't recommend it lightly because it's a curious oddity of a film that explores themes that involve giving away spoilers.
A couple drive to the man's parent's house. There's a great deal of dialogue in the car. When they arrive at the house, things get weird. Then they leave and there's more driving and talking. Things continue to get weird. The ending helps explain things but it's still a film that requires thought and interpretation.
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This was a real mind bender.
Very hard to follow and that's before we even get to the time travel stuff. It all makes sense but following is difficult. You'll need to watch it more than ince to appreciate how complex it really is. Not without flaws, but original and intelligent.
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Abysmal.
An obvious anti-Brexit tale which no doubt appealed to Stewart which, as a consequence of its premise, utterly undermines everything Roddenbery established. In Measure of a Man, Picard gives a speech about androids and slavery but in this show all of that is utterly forgotten. The Federation has become some kind of authoritarian nightmare that has no value for outsiders and thinks enslaving androids en masse is completely fine.
Meanwhile, Picard is now a privileged white man (boo, hiss) who is described as arrogant (have these people watched TNG?) who needs to be told by his female superiors to... 'shut the fudge up.'
Oh, and to really hit home the white male privilege angle, Raffi apparently lives in poverty (because that's a thing now) and she's forced to live in a trailer unlike privileged white man Picard who enjoys his white man privileged mansion and vineyard. Then we get a Seven of Nine who has gone from intelligent logician to a gun-toting lesbian who murders indiscriminately.
This whole show is based on the idea that Picard and Data were somehow deeply connected. Again, have they watched TNG? Picard tolerated Data at best. The idea that he's Data bestest friend is absurd. Data was no more meaningful to Picard than his toaster.
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Discovery was just endless noise and flashing lights.
Picard was a self-indulgent anti-Brexit fiddleathon which undermined almost the whole concept of Roddenberry's vison.
Lower Decks was inoffensive.
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The Girl Who Was Too Fond of Matches - Gaétan Soucy
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Since there's no nature section, I guess this is the place to post this.
This is a book about a man (A.J. Baker) who develops an interest in bird watching and specifically takes an interest in peregrines. He details his fascination over the course of several months in the early sixties and follows the birds around the South of England.
I read it based on several excellent reviews. It's generally considered one of the best nature books.
The first two chapters detailing his interest in bird watching were indeed exquisite. The prose is gorgeous and sets up a passion which borders on obsession. His use of metaphor and simile are amazing. But I have to say, I found the diary portion to be hugely repetitive with endless descriptions of the same colours, the same landscapes, the same north easterly winds, the same list of birds (woodpigeon, lapwing, plover on and on). He occasionally returns to the wonderful language seen in the opening chapters, usually when he tangents onto a separate, more personal subject. There's one where he details the way animals fear humans and he describes humans as stinking of death; and another when he describes his encounter with a fox. But other than that, it just repeats, repeats, repeats.
Reading those opening chapters got me very excited about what was to come but the following diary section was a rather dull and turgid experience. I got the impression it was one of those books that one reviewer loved, then another, then another, until eventually, it developed an unwarranted reputation for excellence based on the poetic beauty of those opening two chapters. The fact is, the diary stuff doesn't match up to that. None the less, I definitely embraced Baker's passion for the subject matter. And I recognised his obvious gift for language. I just wish he would have more eagerly applied it to the latter half of the book. Or perhaps some fiction. The diary section only came to life for me when he expressed his opinion rather than when he described the same identical actions and events over and over.
I highly recommend the opening chapters. Some of the most beautiful prose I've ever come across.
After that... it's very repetitive.
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Confessions of a Mask (Yukio Mishima) 7/10
The Leopard (Giuseppe Lampedusa) 9/10
The Gathering (Anne Enright) 5/10
Normal People (Sally Rooney) 5/10
Atomised (Michel Houellebecq) 9/10
The Book of Ebeneezer La Page (G. B Edwards) 8/10
Blood Meridium (Cormac McCarthy) 3/10
The Old Man & The Sea (Hemmingway) 5/10
The Peregrine ( A.J Baker) 8/10
The Story of the Eye (Georges Bataille) 8/10
Posthumous Memoirs of Bras Cubas (Machado de Assis) 7/10
Journey to the end of the Night (Louis Ferdinand Celine) 10/10
For Whom the Bell Tolls (Hemmingway) 7/10
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The Old Man and The Sea
Maybe I missed something here but this won the Pulitzer prize and was cited as an influence in Hemmingway receiving the Nobel Prize? Why?
I mean, it's a perfectly nice short story about a man battling with a fish then watching as his prize is devoured by sharks, but it's really not much more than that. I enjoyed it but at no point was I thinking... this is epic literature. Truth be told, it's essentially a short version of Moby Dick, a story that looks at a man's obsession taking over him and resulting in no reward. It had all the classic Hemmingway characteristics of being cold and detached and to the point which I disliked in his first person narratives (The Sun Also Rises) but don't mind too much here.
Ultimately, it's all rather forgettable stuff though.
For Whom The Bell Tolls
I really struggle with Hemmingway. His writing is so dry and matter of fact. Sometimes, it's unbearable, but other times, it's strangely compelling. Can't quite put my finger on it. I enjoyed this up to the half way point, then found it to be a bit of a slog.
The basic plot revolves around American, Robert Jordan, being an explosives expert in the Spanish civil war fighting against Franco's fascists. The vast majority of the book takes place in and around a cave where they're camping out in preparation for blowing up a bridge. And that's about it. There's also a romance, but that's the gist of it.
I didn't hate it, but like I said, Hemmingway is hard to like. So far, only 'The Sun Also Rises' impressed me. And that was a long time ago.
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This was wonderful though slight.
Firstly, it's really hard to believe this was published in 1881. It really does feel like it could have been written today (in terms of tone and humour). I guess because so many of us associate 19th century literature with the British and Russian greats. Their bombastic and proper style kind of sets a tone for what you begin to expect of literature from that era but the Brazilian style (at least here) kicks against that without being very familiar to us. Books like this were so hard to find in the pre-internet days. They've found a new audience now.
The story is told by a Bras Cubas after he dies. He begins by describing his funeral before telling us his life story. It's not an especially epic story. He just lives, loves, works, and often fails. There's not much more to him. Because that's what life is for most of us. It's more the humour and darkness of the book that make his story interesting. He rejects his marriage match then, once she marries someone else, begins an affair with her. But that's about as interesting as his life gets. Then, as promised, he dies. He takes comfort in having no children, specifically in the idea of not forcing the misery of life onto another.
The chapters are very short, some only a paragraph long. Some chapters are blank. Some are merely an opportunity to speak directly to the reader (or to the critic as he does in one short chapter). I was always of the opinion that people like Joyce invented the modern novel, but again, it seems clear that isn't the case. This book certainly qualifies.
It didn't resonate with me long after, but was an enjoyable reading experience.
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One of those books you feel like you've read before you have.
I finally got round to it and must say the prose is magnificent (in book one especially). I found it lost it's way in part two when the book goes from his detailed and beautifully described obsession to a more straight-forward narrative about 'what happened next.' Listening to Humbert explain his perversions, justify them, make sense of them, was very enjoyable and despite the content and subject matter, the language used was so lyrical and fluid that it was a joy to read. In part two, however, it becomes a little dense and stolid given that he's now on the run with Dolly and detailing their day-to-day existence. I found myself losing interest.
Then we have a kind of plot twist with a character (Quilty) that was so forgettable to me that when he was returned as Humbert's great enemy, I honestly wondered who the hell he was (I thought I'd missed some pages). Then the book descends into melodrama and murder and blah blah blah.
I adored the first half of this book when it was... 'I would walk along the lake,' but struggled with the second half when it was... 'I walked along the lake.'
Very Good though.
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Another refugee from Book Group Online. Joined them in 2008 but apparently they're shutting down.
I will post my pretentious reviews here instead.
Journey to the End of the Night
in General Fiction
Posted · Edited by Hux
My favourite book.
It begins in World War I with Bardamu (Celine's alter ego) and explores the trauma and futility of the war. He meets Robinson, a kind of doppelganger who lives his life parallel to Bardamu. Broth meet again in Africa, a place where Bardamu experiences yet more suffering (the chapter on the boat to Africa is sublime).
Then he goes to New York (following Robinson) and works at the Ford company and meets a prostitute called Molly. He returns to France and studies medicine at which point the book jumps ahead six years and finds Bardamu working in a working-class suburb of Paris dealing with horrific things such as botched abortions, miscarriages, and the death of a local child. This is where Leon Robinson become a regular character rather than just a spectre.
The book is often described as a celebration nihilism. Celine has very little respect for humanity. To him, it's all suffering, crime, greed, and pain. He witnesses awful things but responds to them as though they're the banal embodiment of normalcy (the book is actually quite funny because of this). Even when Robinson plots to murder an old woman, Bardamu doesn't seem to care, and simply thinks... 'it's nothing to do with me.' There's an underlying message about the trauma caused to both men due to the war. They have both been numbed to the point that they are no longer human beings.
The prose is some of the most exquisite I've ever come across. Which is interesting because it was made famous for its more authentic, real-life writing. Celine was, of course, a noted antisemite in real life. That might be an issue for some. Personally speaking, the fact that Celine is a fairly awful person himself only makes the book resonate more. I have a tendency to separate the artist from the art. And thank God because this book is a masterpiece. 9/10