August 2017 Reading Recap

Another month gone. My parents used to talk about how fast time went by and I never understood it until recently. I guess getting old makes you hyper-aware of the passage of time. Anyway, I read 13 books this month, no bails, and only one that I really didn’t care for. Most of them I liked quite a lot. Stats at the end of the recaps.

Inkheart (Inkworld, #1) by Cornelia Funke –I can’t help but feel that Inkheart is a lesson about human character, and how we have the ability to change the things about our lives and behaviors, if we wish to. It’s a valuable lesson for young people, though I wonder if it’s a little too complex for the target age group. But all that aside, it’s just a hella good story. I devoured it and want more.
The Invisible Library (The Invisible Library, #1) by Genevieve Cogman — It’s a quietly hilarious book. There are laugh-out-loud moments, but mostly the humor makes you grin and think, “I like these people. Even the awful ones.” or “Irony so thick you need waders.” Don’t expect anything too heavy here. There is violence, blood, and some ookiness likely to make you cringe a bit, but the story itself isn’t a dark one. Rather it strips down to a fairly tame detective story about the search for a special book.
The Clockwork Dynasty by Daniel H. Wilson — Do you ever find yourself reading a book that you should be loving, and you’re having trouble motivating yourself even to finish? You don’t think it’s a bad book, quite the opposite, you think it’s a good one. It’s competently written, and the plot and characters should be totally compelling. But they’re not, not to you. So you check the reviews that have posted and find that you’re pretty much in the minority. Almost everyone else loves it. So what’s up?
Daddy-Long-Legs by Jean Webster — The characters, all seen through the eyes of the narrator, Judy Abbott, are both amusing and quite human. She — Judy/Jean Webster — has an eye for human silliness, but a forgiving one. It’s a humane book that made me smile and gave me some warm fuzzies when I needed them.
The Lonely Hearts Hotel by Heather O’Neill — It’s dry, and slightly removed from the visceral responses that most narratives would evoke. I think it’s supposed to engage our emotions on the same level that this life engages Pierrot and Rose. In that sense, it works beautifully. I saw my own world from the outside, and found it sad and shocking, but unsurprising. I loved reading this book. I don’t honestly think I’ll ever read it again. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad one.
Dubliners by James Joyce — As for the stories themselves, I began to see that they were all about who people think they are and why. They’re brief glances into events, even moments of the characters’ lives that are so telling, that make their identities so clear that you come away from each one understanding what they hope for, and why they are suffering.
Horrorstör by Grady Hendrix — I enjoyed the heck out of it. And if it’s a little lightweight, that’s fine. I don’t need buckets of gore with my horror. I like it when my imagination is a big part of why I have The Wiggins. I don’t often smile when I think about horror stories, but this one does make me grin even as I think, Well, I’ll never look at IKEA the same way again.
The Cosmic Serpent: DNA and the Origins of Knowledge by Jeremy Narby — I’d wanted to read this when it first came out but never got around to it. And I’m glad I waited, because it clarified my thinking about aspects of my own writing that needed some clarity. But beyond that I found it a fascinating examination of mythological imagery, shamanism, hallucinogenic substances, and DNA.
The Fifth Season (The Broken Earth, #1) by N.K. Jemisin — This is a world so unlike any I’ve ever read, that even without the superb writing, and the deeper issues, I would have been hooked. But with the story of the Orogenes removed from all familiar context, Jemisin does allow us to view it from the outside, without any the baggage we may carry about our own Orogene analogs. And in doing that she shows us our own truths.
The Pleasures of Reading in an Age of Distraction by Alan Jacobs — If you’re a reader, you probably enjoy books about reading. This year it’s been the primary theme of my reading. And I don’t think you can do better than to read Alan Jacobs’ wonderful, immensely readable ruminations on the nature of books and the pleasures of reading. If you’re a reader, you should read Alan Jacobs.
Magruder’s Curiosity Cabinet by H.P. Wood — I loved this book, just enjoyed the heck out of it. I gave it five stars on Goodreads as soon as I finished it, then fretted about that rating because I thought that I was putting myself in a position of having to defend my enthusiasm for a book which I thought was a bit didactic. However, as I discussed the book with The Housemate — a voracious reader herself — I realized that while Wood’s message did seem a bit anachronistic in context — her characters are diverse in terms of race, nationality, and gender/sexuality — she has actually given us a context which goes beyond that of time and place, a society of outsiders who understand what it is to be different at a bone-deep level. Because of this, her story is neither didactic nor anachronistic, but timeless in terms of how “different” people are forced to live in society.
Jackaby (Jackaby, #1) by William Ritter — I enjoyed the story enough that I immediately bought the second volume, which is probably the best recommendation I can give. It’s well written, fast-paced, funny, and there’s a genuine mystery or two rattling around in there. One I guessed at pretty quickly, one I was dead wrong about. I’m glad about the latter, it’s really what keeps me reading a mystery. If they’re too obvious, I lose interest. Jackaby himself is more personable than Holmes, and the other characters are well drawn enough to engage my interest. If some of the portrayals, most notably Abigail, are a touch anachronistic, I’m willing to overlook that because I like them and the way they fit into the story.
Beastly Bones (Jackaby, #2) by William Ritter — The second Jackaby book has proved to be as charming as the first, if even more verbally anachronistic. Never mind all that. As The Housemate quite rightly pointed out, “It’s an alternate universe!” Nowhere in ours do we find cranky toads that spew sulphurous smoke from their eyes, and at no point did Darwin decide to keep secret creatures that morph into the animals they prey on. Or as Abigail Rook herself puts it, “Working as his (Jackaby’s) assistant tends to call for a somewhat flexible relationship with reality.”

Stats

Books read: 13
Rereads: 1 (Daddy Long-Legs)
Books by women: 6
Books by people of color: 1
Books in translation: 1
Books by LGBT authors or with LGBT themes: 2
Books about books: 3
SF/Fantasy: 8
Mystery/Thriller: 6
Mainstream fiction: 1
YA: 2
Audio books: 2
Non-fiction: 2
ARCs: 0
Favorite of the month: This is a toughie because I liked all but one, and there are several I really loved but for very different reasons. I think the best book I read this month was The Fifth Season. The most fun? Jackaby.
Least favorite: The Clockwork Dynasty

Some final thoughts for the month. Audio took a hit this month, but as I’m spang in the middle of Professor Greenberg’s survey of symphonies, it wasn’t quite the dismal showing it seems. Not a ton of diversity this month either; most of it was provided by Nora Jemisin. I’d meant to swing right into the sequel to The Fifth Season, but got sidetracked.

As always there’s some crossover in genres. I seem to be reading a lot of fantasy/mysteries lately. And almost no short fiction. Many of these were rather long.

On the whole, a good reading month. On my list for next month:

The Miranda, by Geoff Nicholson (already begun) and Hannah’s Dress, by Pascale Hugues (already begun) both ARCs which have to be read in a timely manner.
Last Call at the Nightshade Lounge, by Paul Krueger. This is the one about the monster-fighting Chicago bartenders. How could I pass that up?
Christopher Wild, by Kathe Koja. About Kit Marlowe. Who could resist?
Tourists, by Lisa Goldstein One of Glinda’s choices
The Obelisk Gate, by Nora Jemisin
The Symphony, by Robert Greenberg (Already more than halfway through this)

That’s all I’m going to commit to right now though I’m hoping to read the last two Jackabys, and the last book in Jemisin’s Broken Earth trilogy as well.

Happy reading!