Blog: #recent-reads

Nonfiction

• The Dark Queens: The Bloody Rivalry That Forged the Medieval World, by Shelley Puhak, published 2022. It’s about Brunhild and Fredegund in the late 500s and all the crazy and frequently violent political machinations throughout their rise to power. Quite good. I really liked it, even if the going felt slower at times because of the less familiar names. I hadn’t realized the royal name Louis (Louis XIV etc., and that’s not one of the less familiar ones, to be clear) came from the name Clovis. Also fascinating to read about the characters (letters) Chilperic invented that ended up being adopted by the Angles and used in Old English and later Scandinavian languages, though the book didn’t say which characters (ash? eth? thorn? wynn?) and my cursory googling thus far has been less than helpful.

Fiction

• The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion, volume 8, by Beth Brower, published 2024, historical fiction. Delightful as usual. I love the characters and enjoyed getting more backstory. The scene change for much of the book was also nice.
• Veiled, by Benedict Jacka, published 2015, fantasy. Sixth in the Alex Verus series (halfway through, excluding the novellas). Liked it, especially the developments in the overarching story.
• The Lost Child of Lychford, by Paul Cornell, published 2016, fantasy. Second in the series, a Christmas ghost story of sorts. Quite liked it — the atmosphere, the worldbuilding, the characters. And lo, there’s a sixth one coming out in September.

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Another one! (I’ve been very behind.)

Nonfiction

• Skunk Works: A Personal Memoir of My Time at Lockheed, by Ben R. Rich & Leo Janos, published 1994. The morality of war and military contracting aside, I liked this a lot as a book about building things. Lots of fascinating stories about the development of stealth tech, the U-2, and the Blackbird. (And whew, that story about Carmen Vito’s cyanide pill!)
• How We Got to Now: Six Innovations That Made the Modern World, by Steven Johnson, published 2014. I read this for book group and enjoyed it (which I expected, given that I love books about innovations and also really liked Johnson’s The Ghost Map and Extra Life). It’s about the hummingbird effect, where a discovery or invention leads to other unexpected results — for example, the invention of glass unexpectedly led to biological discoveries because of the invention of the microscope. (Also, I didn’t know the word “lens” comes from the Latin word for lentil seed. Ha.) Particularly enjoyed the part about engineering the Chicago sewer (mindblowing, really) and the part about time being different everywhere (on the level of minutes) before the introduction of time zones.

Fiction

• Over Sea, Under Stone, by Susan Cooper, published 1965, fantasy. First in the series The Dark Is Rising. I last read this twenty years ago this month and wanted to see how it held up now that I’m quite a bit older. Oh, it very much does. Loved it even more this time through. The seaside Cornish village atmosphere is great, and there was more mystery and danger than I remembered. Looking forward to rereading The Dark Is Rising itself, which has long been my favorite in the series.
• The Other Valley, by Scott Alexander Howard, published 2024, science fiction. I picked this up after reading tarvolon’s review. Quite liked the idea (always down for stories about time travel in any form), and other than some earthy parts I think I liked the execution, too. And the ending. And the French names.

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Nonfiction

• Seeing Like a State: How Certain Schemes to Improve the Human Condition Have Failed, by James C. Scott, published 1998. A bit slow and mildly repetitive in places, but overall a fascinating anthropological look at the resilience of social and natural diversity in the face of homogenizing nation states. Emerson’s saying about a foolish consistency being the hobgoblin of little minds kept coming into my head throughout the book. “My case is that certain kinds of states, driven by utopian plans and an authoritarian disregard for the values, desires, and objections of their subjects, are indeed a mortal threat to human well-being.” Much of what Scott documents felt like a failure of UX, where planners didn’t pay attention to the people who’d be using/living the system. The urban planning parts reminded me that I need to try Jane Jacobs again. (I bounced off The Death and Life of Great American Cities last time I tried.) “A fundamental mistake that urban planners made, Jacobs claims, was to infer functional order from the duplication and regimentation of building forms: that is, from purely visual order.” I hadn’t thought of it that way before, but that’s true, and a good reminder that sight is not the only sense and that accessibility concerns often end up affecting us all. The part where Scott talked about “the absence of a dense street life, the intrusion of hostile authorities, the loss of the spatial irregularities that foster coziness, gathering places for informal recreation, and neighborhood feeling” also resonated with me. The grid-system suburbia I live in is nice, but I often find myself yearning for those spatial irregularities and higher density and informal gathering places. (That said, my church ward does meet the need for neighborhood feeling.) I also liked the parts about variolation leading to vaccination and about check dams. All in all, glad I read it, lots of food for thought.
• Brunelleschi’s Dome: How a Renaissance Genius Reinvented Architecture, by Ross King, published 2000. This is Florence a hundred years earlier than Benvenuto Cellini and I’m here for it. A fascinating read. I loved the detail throughout the book on how they built the dome — the machine Brunelleschi designed to hoist heavy stones up hundreds of feet, for example. (Speaking of which, this book unexpectedly triggered my fear of heights over and over again.) Crazy how in Florentine law, people were considered adolescents until they turned twenty-four. And that prank Brunelleschi played on the carpenter! Great book, highly recommended.

Fiction

• Quicksilver, by Neal Stephenson, published 2003, science fiction (barely; it’s more historical fiction). Other than some fairly bawdy parts I didn’t care for, I generally liked it — readable throughout (if very long), and the scientific research aspect was fun, as was the variety in form (play fragments, epistolary, etc.). It’s completely bonkers in places. Lots of 1600s politics. Lots of Newton and Hooke and Leibniz and Pepys, too. (I have no idea how historically accurate it is, but that didn’t matter, I loved it anyway. The 1600s are my jam.) The Royal Society minutes were a hoot. And that ending! Whew.
• City of Last Chances, by Adrian Tchaikovsky, published 2022, fantasy. First in the Tyrant Philosophers series. I loved it — great worldbuilding and interesting characters (particularly Yasnic and his god, and also Ruslan’s fate). Enjoyed the Les Mis vibes when they showed up, and I felt it gave a compelling overall picture of life under an oppressive empire. The large number of points of view also worked well for me. Very much looking forward to the rest of the series.

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Nonfiction

• The Small and the Mighty: Twelve Unsung Americans Who Changed the Course of History, from the Founding to the Civil Rights Movement, by Sharon McMahon, published 2024. Quite good. Lots of inspiring, hopeful stories from history, which was just what I needed when I read this. Speaking of the challenges these people overcame, by the way, it’s awful how America has been (and clearly often still is) so sexist and racist. Human tribalism is a hard thing to overcome. I feel like the gospel of Jesus Christ is an effective countermeasure, though.
• The Notebook: A History of Thinking on Paper, by Roland Allen, published 2023. I heard about this from the newsletters of Austin Kleon and Ryan Holiday. Really liked it. For the past few years (I’ve mentioned this before), I’ve been using pretty much exclusively digital notes, but reading this got me itching to return to paper at least some of the time. The little that I’ve done so far has been satisfying. I didn’t know it took five hundred years for Florence to return to pre-plague population levels. I also hadn’t really thought about paper being so critical in the development of art, but it makes a lot of sense (having an affordable way to do lots of sketches and studies). In the part about the Dutch album amicorum, I suddenly remembered that when I was on my mission, the younger Thais (and missionaries, including me) had friendship books, which I had totally forgotten about. Two other parts that stood out to me and that I’m still thinking about: the idea of notebooks containing rough notes that later get transcribed into journals and then get refined and processed until they’re ready for publication, and the idea of notebooks as an actual extension of one’s mind — an SD card for the brain, basically. Oh, I also enjoyed the history of double-entry accounting.

Fiction

• Still Alice, by Lisa Genova, published 2007, fiction. I read this for book group. It’s from the perspective of a woman who gets early-onset Alzheimer’s and shows what that’s like. Whew, it’s tragic. Fiction is a great vehicle for this type of thing, though — letting you experience something you probably haven’t (similar to Kindred). Looking forward to reading Genova’s ALS book at some point down the road.
• The Thursday Murder Club, by Richard Osman, published 2020, mystery. Quite liked it. Fun, delightful characters (Joyce especially), and twisty, too. Looking forward to reading the rest of the series, and then Osman’s newer series after that.
• The Tainted Cup, by Robert Jackson Bennett, published 2024, fantasy. A twisty Holmes/Watson-style murder mystery, with big monsters in the background for flavor. Other than a few small parts I didn’t care for, I liked it. Especially the interesting worldbuilding. I still need to finish Bennett’s Founders trilogy, which also had interesting worldbuilding (magic ala programming).

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Though I’ve been reading a lot (as you can see on the reading log), I’ve been rather slow writing these up. Hoping to get back on track soon.

Nonfiction

• Printing Types: Their History, Forms, and Use, volume 1, by Daniel Berkeley Updike, published 1937. This first volume looks at typefaces designed early on (1500–1800) in a few different European countries (Germany, Italy, England, etc.) and also examines how they were used. I read it primarily for the type specimens and sample pages and less for the commentary, which turned out to be a bit dry and snobby. Fun to see the variety of typefaces. Also, I learned that “out of sorts” meant the printer was missing some characters in the typeface.
• A Life of My Own, by Claire Tomalin, published 2017. While I haven’t read any of Tomalin’s biographies yet, my wife has read her Jane Austen, and I figured I may as well start with Tomalin’s autobiography in the hope that there would be a lot about the biographies she’s written. There was some (less than I wanted), and those were the parts I enjoyed most. In her own life, there was a fair amount of cheating and tragedy. (Her husband! Her daughter! And that story her teacher told her about the child in India whose toes got cut off while crossing a road and who just picked up the toes and kept running! Whew.) Fun fact: Jane Austen and Samuel Pepys had the same banker, and said banker’s financial records for both are still available for research (or were when Tomalin wrote the Austen and Pepys biographies, anyway).

Fiction

• The Adventures of Pinocchio, by Carlo Collodi, published 1883, fantasy. What a weird little book. I’ve only seen the original Disney movie, and that was a long, long time ago. The morals of the story are laid on a bit thick. I suppose in hindsight that that shouldn’t have been a surprise to me. Also a surprise: the Talking Cricket’s fate early in the book. Whoa. Not a surprise: people being kind of violent back then. (Wait, what? You’re telling me that human nature has not in fact changed all that much since the 1800s? Oh snap.) The scene where Pinocchio refuses to take his medicine was funny. Overall, glad I read it.
• Kindred, by Octavia E. Butler, published 1979, science fiction. Family history time travel, basically. For some reason I was expecting it to be boring, but it was compelling from the first page. And whew, that was a brutal, violent, and uncomfortable book. Slavery is insanely awful. Ugh. (This book reminded me, by the way, how effective fiction is in mentally simulating conditions one hasn’t experienced oneself — like what it might have felt like to be a slave.) A good book and well worth reading.

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Nonfiction

• Books in Chains: And Other Bibliographic Papers, by William Blades, published 1890. An interesting little collection of essays about book history — chained books, signatures, the Great Controversy regarding whether the Germans (Gutenberg) or the Dutch (Coster) were first to invent movable type. Very nerdy and I enjoyed it, especially the bit where a printer was marking signatures and after getting through the double alphabet they started using the sequence of Latin words from the Lord’s Prayer. Ha! I also didn’t realize chained books were a thing for so long (three hundred years or so).
• First We Read, Then We Write: Emerson on the Creative Process, by Robert D. Richardson, published 2009. A short book about Emerson on reading and writing. I’ll admit this didn’t resonate with me as much as I was hoping it would, and I don’t know why. (I do plan to read both Richardson’s Emerson biography and Emerson’s essays down the road and should have a better idea then if Emerson just isn’t for me or if it was this particular book.) The idea that language is rooted in nature — and that even abstract words often started out as references to concrete things — intrigues me, though I don’t know how broadly true it actually is. This quote got lodged in my head: “Always that work is more pleasant to the imagination which is not now required.”

Fiction

• Walking to Aldebaran, by Adrian Tchaikovsky, published 2019, science fiction. Enjoyed this, particularly the core concept and setting (bleak though it was). I did not see the twist coming until it was twisting.
• My Brilliant Friend, by Elena Ferrante (translated by Ann Goldstein), published 2011 (translation published 2012), fiction. The first of Ferrante’s Neapolitan novels. This felt like it paired surprisingly well with Benvenuto Cellini’s autobiography, though it’s around four hundred years later and it’s fiction. Sure seems like there was a lot of fighting and violence in Italy during both times. Whew. The book itself was good, though maybe not really my thing. Not planning to continue with the series, sadly.

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Nonfiction

• The Facemaker, by Lindsey Fitzharris, published 2022. Book group read. A harrowing but fascinating history of plastic surgery during World War I. Not for the weak of stomach. (Might not want to read it while eating anything squishy.) Back in 2020 I read Fitzharris’s The Butchering Art, which I think I liked a little more, but both are good and worth reading. I particularly enjoyed reading about innovations like the tubed pedicle and the discovery of blood types. Also crazy to learn about Violet Jessop, who was on the Olympic when it hit a ship, then the next year was on its sister ship Titanic when it sank (she survived), and then four years later was on the third sister ship Britannic when it too sank (she survived). Whew.
• The Autobiography of Benvenuto Cellini, by Benvenuto Cellini (huge surprise there), translated by John Addington Symonds, originally published 1563ish, translation published 1887. Far more entertaining and readable than I expected it to be. There’s lots about Cellini being a goldsmith and a sculptor, brown-nosing popes and kings and dukes, getting into fights and, uh, murdering people, and getting into, um, short-term age-gap relationships, let’s call them. Leonardo and Michelangelo are mentioned. There’s plague. Jail time makes a cameo. There’s probably a significant amount of exaggeration throughout, and there’s definitely an inflated ego. Not to mention Italy in the 1500s is a crazy time, at least for Cellini. Glad I read this. (Not least because I have Italian ancestors and it felt kind of like reading about a batty old uncle.)

Fiction

• Life After Life, by Kate Atkinson, published 2013, historical fiction / alternate history. I heard about the book (and Atkinson, for that matter) in Lev Grossman’s newsletter. (Looking forward to reading The Bright Sword, by the way.) Loved the writing, concrete and vivid. And whew, this story was kind of brutal (and a bit earthy), which is understandable given its core time loop conceit but still a punch in the gut at the end of each loop. Reminded me a bit of The Edge of Tomorrow in some ways, though this takes place during World War I and II and there are no aliens. The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August was good, too. Ah, I love time loops.
• Firewalkers, by Adrian Tchaikovsky, published 2020, science fiction. Post-apocalypses don’t appeal to me all that much (as I’ve mentioned before ad nauseam), but this one had interesting ideas and was compelling enough that I’d be down to read more stories set in this world.

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Nonfiction

• Pure Invention, by Matt Alt, published 2020. A fairly quick read about Japanese pop culture and its influence throughout the world via exports like anime, Hello Kitty, Nintendo, and emoji. (Speaking of which, I didn’t know that the iPhone initially flopped in Japan because it lacked emoji at first.) Alt also has a related newsletter which I just discovered while writing this up. I’m not hugely into Japanese pop culture myself, but this was anthropologically interesting and worth it, I felt.

Fiction

• Witches of Lychford, by Paul Cornell, published 2015, fantasy. Rather liked it. Dark, atmospheric (British village), and good writing to boot. A while back I got the first novella for free somewhere, then forgot about it until recently when I saw someone mention it (I think on r/fantasy) and decided to give it a go. Looking forward to the other Lychford novellas.
• The Boys, by Katie Hafner, published 2022, fiction. I heard about this via Eliot Peper’s review, which said it had “the best plot twist I’ve experienced in a long time.” Color me intrigued. I’m happy to report that yes, that was indeed a heck of a plot twist, one I did not see coming at all. Wow. I felt like the book ended well, too. And then I got to the author bio at the very end and realized that Hafner also wrote Where Wizards Stay Up Late (a history of the Internet) some thirty years ago. I haven’t read it yet but have been meaning to for years. Small world!
• Penric and the Shaman, by Lois McMaster Bujold, published 2016, fantasy. Part of the Penric & Desdemona series. Enjoyed it, though I was admittedly also using it as the testbed for my new ebook reader (more on that soon) so I wasn’t fully focused on the story.

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Nonfiction

• The Cause, by Joseph J. Ellis, published 2021. Fascinating history of the American Revolution (specifically 1773–1783), warts and all. I haven’t read enough other books about the topic to know how it fares in comparison, but I learned a lot. The main two things that struck me were a) the precariousness of the Revolution all along the way and b) the hypocrisy of seeking freedom from Britain while still holding slaves.
• Shift Happens, by Marcin Wichary, published 2023. A fascinating deep dive into the history of keyboards (typewriters, computers, phones, etc.). It took me five months to read this (it’s just over 1,200 pages), but it’s good and worth it. Lovely typesetting, too. And some fun Easter eggs.

Fiction

• Nettle & Bone, by T. Kingfisher, published 2022, fantasy. A fairy tale with some dark elements, but it never felt particularly dangerous. Enjoyed it.
• The Butcher of the Forest, by Premee Mohamed, published 2024, horror/fantasy. A dark fairy tale that did in fact feel dangerous (which I think I prefer, at least in fairy tales). Quite liked it. The ending was great, too. Looking forward to reading Mohamed’s other books.
• Komarr, by Lois McMaster Bujold, published 1998, science fiction. Part of the Vorkosigan series. Loved it as usual, and Bujold continues to be one of my favorite authors. I’ve been metering these out so I don’t finish the series too quickly (one a year or so, as I believe I’ve mentioned before), but I think I’m going to shift strategies and read them every few months instead so I can finish (and then reread them down the road, along with Bujold’s other books).

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Nonfiction

• Sick Societies, by Robert B. Edgerton, published 1992. An anthropological critique of cultural relativism, detailing how some folk societies develop maladaptive behaviors that harm themselves or others. Fascinating book with lots of interesting (and often sad and disturbing) anecdotes. From the Psmiths’ review, which is where I heard about the book in the first place: “That’s the case the late UCLA anthropologist Robert Edgerton set out to make in Sick Societies: that some primitive societies are not actually happy and fulfilled, that some of their beliefs and institutions are inadequate or actively harmful to their people, and that some of them are frankly on their way to cultural suicide. The mere fact that people keep doing something doesn’t mean it’s actually working well for them, but just as the market can stay irrational longer than you can stay solvent, your society can stay dysfunctional longer than you can stay alive.”

Fiction

• Death at La Fenice, by Donna Leon, published 1992, mystery. Murder mystery set in Venice. It was okay, though I don’t think I liked the writing enough to continue the series.
• The Redoubtable Pali Avramapul, by Victoria Goddard, published 2022, fantasy. Quite liked it. The first part of the book retells events from The Hands of the Emperor and The Return of Fitzroy Angursell from Pali’s perspective, which was interesting. (I probably should have read the rest of the Greenwing & Dart books before this one, by the way. I’m planning to read the rest of Goddard’s books in publication order, which I find is usually the best way to read an author’s works.)
• The Midas Rain, by Adam Roberts, published 2023, science fiction. Heist story. Stylistically interesting. Liked it. Looking forward to trying one of Roberts’ novels.
• The Unselected Journals of Emma M. Lion, volume 7, by Beth Brower, published 2022, fiction. Loved it as usual. And now I’m finally caught up! Just in time, apparently — my wife tells me Brower is announcing the volume 8 release date in a few weeks.

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