This pamphlet is an introduction to analyzing information. I picked it up thinking it could provide helpful tips, but didn't help at all (It was all sThis pamphlet is an introduction to analyzing information. I picked it up thinking it could provide helpful tips, but didn't help at all (It was all stuff that I already knew).
I can't say anything about what the book says because if I do, I will be be giving away the whole of the book. Since I'm being honest (and since I'm writing an honest review anyway), I'll just continue and say that the book disappointed me. I suppose it's because I was looking for something that could help me write essays (for example, something like "how to spot bias in writing") rather than just tell me generally what I need to do to write an essay (for example: Step Four is 'Determine What You Need to Know')
This book is really for those who have never analysed anything in their life. Actually, thinking about it, it might be best for primary school (I believe the equivalent in sometimes called elementary school) students, it is that simple.
Disclaimer: I got a free copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for a free and honest review.
This pamphlet is an introduction to analyzing information. I picked it up thinking it could provide helpful tips, but didn't help at all (It was all stuff that I already knew).
I can't say anything about what the book says because if I do, I will be be giving away the whole of the book. Since I'm being honest (and since I'm writing an honest review anyway), I'll just continue and say that the book disappointed me. I suppose it's because I was looking for something that could help me write essays (for example, something like "how to spot bias in writing") rather than just tell me generally what I need to do to write an essay (for example: Step Four is 'Determine What You Need to Know')
This book is really for those who have never analysed anything in their life. Actually, thinking about it, it might be best for primary school (I believe the equivalent in sometimes called elementary school) students, it is that simple.
Disclaimer: I got a free copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for a free and honest review.
This comic had me from the words "alternate matriarchal 1900s Asia". Ok, so the matriarchal thing wasn't the deal-breaker, but the word "Asia" was. I This comic had me from the words "alternate matriarchal 1900s Asia". Ok, so the matriarchal thing wasn't the deal-breaker, but the word "Asia" was. I love it whenever Asia features as an influence. While this isn't wholly Asian, there are more than enough Asian influences to keep me happy.
Monstress follow Maika Halfwolf, an Arcanic teenage girl with something living inside her. After breaking free from a Cumaea (just know that the Cumaea would happily hunt the Arcanic people like her), she goes on the run with a cute little fox-girl called Kippa and a two-tailed cat called Master Ren. This volume contains the first six issues of the comic, and provides a comprehensive opening.
Kippa was the star of the show (at least for me). I know Maika is the main character, but Kippa is just so innocent and cute. She lightens the story, and I really, really hope she stays a central character for a long, long time.
And I don't need to talk about the world building, because it's amazing and the art is gorgeous. In this volume, we've only started to explore the world, so I'm sure there's a lot more that will be revealed in the later issues.
I read this in parts (in its separate issues), so I'm not sure how things would look in the end, but the copy I read was very much one issue of comic + extra content (letters, fanart, etc). I do hope that the finished volume has all the comics together, and all the bonus content at the end, rather than just putting the issues together.
Oh, and I'm actually quite curious - is this more or less violent that Tokyo Ghoul? My friend was saying that Tokyo Ghoul was too violent for me, but if Monstress is on the same level (and trust me, it's violent. You do not want to give this to kids or younger teens), then I should be able to read it.
Basically, if you're into gorgeous art, interesting characters and a world that isn't based completely on the West, you're going to love this. It does, however, contain a lot of explicit violence (and bad language - I assume that despite being Asian, they all speak English and so have normal English curse words, which is peculiar but oh well), so I wouldn't recommend it to younger readers or those with weak stomachs.
Disclaimer: I got a free copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for a free and honest review.
This comic had me from the words "alternate matriarchal 1900s Asia". Ok, so the matriarchal thing wasn't the deal-breaker, but the word "Asia" was. I love it whenever Asia features as an influence. While this isn't wholly Asian, there are more than enough Asian influences to keep me happy.
Monstress follow Maika Halfwolf, an Arcanic teenage girl with something living inside her. After breaking free from a Cumaea (just know that the Cumaea would happily hunt the Arcanic people like her), she goes on the run with a cute little fox-girl called Kippa and a two-tailed cat called Master Ren. This volume contains the first six issues of the comic, and provides a comprehensive opening.
Kippa was the star of the show (at least for me). I know Maika is the main character, but Kippa is just so innocent and cute. She lightens the story, and I really, really hope she stays a central character for a long, long time.
And I don't need to talk about the world building, because it's amazing and the art is gorgeous. In this volume, we've only started to explore the world, so I'm sure there's a lot more that will be revealed in the later issues.
I read this in parts (in its separate issues), so I'm not sure how things would look in the end, but the copy I read was very much one issue of comic + extra content (letters, fanart, etc). I do hope that the finished volume has all the comics together, and all the bonus content at the end, rather than just putting the issues together.
Oh, and I'm actually quite curious - is this more or less violent that Tokyo Ghoul? My friend was saying that Tokyo Ghoul was too violent for me, but if Monstress is on the same level (and trust me, it's violent. You do not want to give this to kids or younger teens), then I should be able to read it.
Basically, if you're into gorgeous art, interesting characters and a world that isn't based completely on the West, you're going to love this. It does, however, contain a lot of explicit violence (and bad language - I assume that despite being Asian, they all speak English and so have normal English curse words, which is peculiar but oh well), so I wouldn't recommend it to younger readers or those with weak stomachs.
Disclaimer: I got a free copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for a free and honest review.
I have been waiting for A Darkness At The Door ever since I read The Theft of Sunlight slightly more than a year and a half ago. And oF I N A L L Y!!!
I have been waiting for A Darkness At The Door ever since I read The Theft of Sunlight slightly more than a year and a half ago. And once again, I was not disappointed. Since this is book 2 of the duology, there will be spoilers for The Theft of Sunlight in this review.
A Darkness At The Door picks up right where The Theft of Sunlight ends, with Rae trapped on a slaver’s ship. She may have discovered that the Prince’s cousin is complicit in the kidnapping of children to be sold as slaves, but what good is this knowledge if she can’t escape? However, Rae finds enough strength to escape (she may or may not have made an unwilling deal with a powerful being in the process) and meets up with a rather dangerous friend, Bren, who may be able to help her.
I cannot emphasise enough how important it is to be familiar with, or at least remember the main plot points of The Theft of Sunlight before reading this. Most of the characters here have appeared in the first book, so you’ll want to be familiar with them before you continue on this journey.
In terms of pacing, I thought this book was generally good! The opening was exciting and though I felt the book slowed down a little too much at one point in the middle, during the respite from all the fighting at the start, the last third of the book was exciting and extremely gripping. I actually don’t think the middle section was that slow or very long, but my attention flagged a little because it was basically a journey between the two sections. Then again, maybe I’m just being picky because of how excellent the rest of the book is.
As always, Rae is an amazing person. I already liked her in the first book, but I really appreciated her character development here. Despite her club foot and losing a finger, she manages to find the energy to carry out her mission. I also liked that the book dealt with her physical disabilities realistically – Rae pushes herself, but when she pushes herself too much, it comes at a cost. She’s a badass but she’s a realistic one – she’s not going to be doing superhero stunts. This is also the book where Rae is forced to wrestle with some tough questions, namely: who should be judge, jury, and executioner? and Is the ‘thieve’s justice’ ever justified? I won’t spoil the book by sharing the answers but I appreciate how the book has Rae grapple with these questions.
There was also quite some romance in this book between Rae and Bren. It’s something that’s been developing since the first book and I really enjoyed their interactions. The way their relationship develops and how they learn to trust one another while fighting for Rae’s life is really the type of romance I like. Their romance developed very naturally and I actually really enjoyed reading it.
All in all, A Darkness At The Door is a fantastic ending to this duology. I love Rae and her friends, I love the world-building, and I love basically everything about this book.
Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book for review from Netgalley but all my gushing about the book is from the heart
I always love a good historical mystery and with such a fun name, how could I not request a review copy of A Botanist’s Guide to Parties and Poisons?
TI always love a good historical mystery and with such a fun name, how could I not request a review copy of A Botanist’s Guide to Parties and Poisons?
There are, sadly, not as many parties as you would expect in this book. But there is a lot of poison. When Saffron Everleigh attends a stuffy university party, the last thing she expects is for Mrs Henry, the disgruntled wife of one of the professors, to be poisoned. While Mrs Henry isn’t dead, there’s still a mystery to be solved because Professor Maxwell, Saffron’s mentor, has been fingered as the culprit of the crime. Together with Alexander Ashton, a researcher she first met at that same party, Saffron tries to find out what poison was used and why so that she can clear her mentor’s name.
For some reason, the title made me think that this was going to be a light-hearted murder mystery. Instead, I found this to be a historical mystery that’s rooted in its time. The university isn’t kooky and the departmental politics and sexism are very present, making it rather heavy reading at times. Saffron faces a lot of challenges, including harassment, in her job and the book doesn’t shy away from it, especially towards the end.
The plot itself was interesting and progressed at a steady pace. I finished a thriller before starting this book, so it did feel a little slow at times, but I think that’s more the nature of the genre than a problem with the book.
Saffron was a likeable heroine. She’s smart and loyal to her friends, and she can be pretty devious when she needs to get information. I’m not sure that I buy her sudden ability to get information via flirting when she was so awkward during the party at the start of the book, but overall, I liked her and was rooting for her to figure out what happened. Her romance with Alexander was predictable, but they seem well-matched and that was nice.
Overall, this was an enjoyable historical mystery! Saffron is a great main character and I enjoyed following her on her adventures to find out the truth and clear Professor Maxwell’s name!
Disclaimer: I got a free e-copy of this story from NetGalley. All opinions in this review are my own.
I chanced upon Longing and Other Stories when I was browsing NetGalley and since I like Japanese culture (this might be a bit of an understatement), II chanced upon Longing and Other Stories when I was browsing NetGalley and since I like Japanese culture (this might be a bit of an understatement), I decided to request this book! I’ve not read anything by Jun’ichiro Tanizaki before, so this evocative work was an interesting experience for me.
Longing and Other Stories is a collection of three stories:
Longing – This might have been the titular story, but it was also my least favourite of the three. It’s basically about a boy taking a long, strange journey home. While the story is very atmospheric, the ending is one that, I feel, negates the journey because it’s so cliched.
Sorrows of a Heretic – According to the afterword, this is a semi-autobiographical story, but the narrator-protagonist is supposed to be more unlikeable than Tanizaki actually was. I don’t really know how much exaggeration there was, but the protagonist is extremely unlikeable – he’s arrogant, lazy, financially irresponsible, and he has no sympathy for his dying sister. He’s someone who basically lives for himself.
The ending here is interesting: originally, I really disliked the final paragraph because I didn’t think it connected to the story very well and it just reminded me of the disappointing ending of Longing. But, I read in the afterword that Tanizaki actually ended up deleting that paragraph, but they translated it so you could see the author’s original intention. I definitely agree with the deletion and I think the story was stronger when it ended one paragraph earlier.
The Story of an Unhappy Mother – This was my favourite story of the three, although it features another unlikeable protagonist. This time, the narrator is a younger son who is recounting the story of his mother and how she changed from a self-centred but cheerful and charming widow to a woman filled with sorrow and who passively punishes one of her children by withholding affection. It’s a fascinating exploration of family dynamics, and I actually enjoyed the ending, which hints at the possibility of the supernatural haunting (no spoilers but I’ll say that it reminded me of the Aoi chapter in Genji).
Overall, this was an interesting trio of stories that explore the human character. I had a bit of a rough start with this book, since I wasn’t fond of the first story, but now that I’ve finished, I would be interested in reading more from Tanizaki.
I received an invitation to review The Key in the Lock because I previously enjoyed The Witchfinder’s Sister (link to my Goodreads review). To be honeI received an invitation to review The Key in the Lock because I previously enjoyed The Witchfinder’s Sister (link to my Goodreads review). To be honest, even with such a positive experience, I almost DNF-ed The Key in the Lock because it wasn’t quite what I was expected. But I’m glad I decided to give it another go because it turned out to be a very captivating read.
The Key in the Lock starts with Ivy losing her son Tim in war. His death isn’t clear cut or honourable – why did he suddenly stand up while in the trench? While she’s mourning the loss of her son, she’s thinking of her past, when William, the little son of Edward (the man she has a crush on), also died under mysterious circumstances.
With two deaths being revealed so early on, the book should have gripped me from the start. Instead, I found myself feeling rather disengaged and confused. I think it’s because Ivy’s narrative style is the same in the two time periods, and if you miss the year at the start of the chapter (or if you forget the year), things can get confusing quickly. Plus, I did not understand how William and her son’s death were related, that one brought back memories of the other.
But for some reason, I decided to go back to the beginning of the book and try again. This time, I managed to read a good portion of the book and about a third of the way in, I started getting interested. Who really killed William? Why would Ivy think that she caused her son to die? The questions started getting more insistent and the information was slowly being revealed.
Once the book found its stride, it was absolutely captivating. I didn’t think of this book as a mystery at first, but the last half of the book was filled with enough revelations that I started thinking of this book as having two mysteries. I went from wanting to stop reading to being unable to put down the book.
Even the fact that Ivy wasn’t the most sympathetic character did nothing to slow me down. While I occasionally found Ivy’s rose-coloured view of Edward and her coldness to her husband to be irritating, because I didn’t share her view and because I thought she was old enough to know better, I appreciated the fact that it led to a natural character growth for her. For her sake, I wish that she learnt this lesson earlier, but at least she learnt it.
Overall, I really enjoyed this book! While the starting was a bit slow for me, I am glad that the story paid off and that I didn’t give up on it.
Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.
“Throughout the centuries, lots of women have married princes. It is supposed to be the stuff that fairy tales are made of; a confection of dashing gr
“Throughout the centuries, lots of women have married princes. It is supposed to be the stuff that fairy tales are made of; a confection of dashing grooms and swooning brides and true love that conquers all. Needless to say, the reality was somewhat different.”
- From the introduction of The Wives of George IV
Now that I’m overseas again, I’ve started checking NetGalley a little more often than before. When I saw this biography on the two wives of King George IV, I was intrigued because I’ve never read anything about these women.
As the title says, this book focuses on two women who were married (or thought they were married) to King George IV. Although George IV had many mistresses, only two women could claim to be married to him: Maria Fitzherbert, a pious Catholic who loved George IV, and Caroline of Brunswick, the political match for George IV.
Given that this book is about the two wives of the same man, I expected it to be about the rivalry between the two women. Instead, this book tells the story of the lives of these two women, and their lives did not overlap except for the fact that they married the same man. Because of this, Curzon chooses to divide the book neatly into half, dedicating the first half of the book to Maria and the second half to Caroline. It could feel disjointed, since we’re basically reading two biographies in one book, but because their lives didn’t overlap that much, this narrative structure worked.
And again, given that Maria Fitzherbert and Caroline of Brunswick are very different in character, I also expected myself to like one more than the other. Again, the book surprised me because I found myself sympathetic to both women. Curzon did a wonderful job of painting a sympathetic portrait of both women, and it was clear to me that they had both been wronged by George IV, who’s quite clearly the villain in this narrative. Caroline was completely unloved and treated badly, and Maria was repeatedly betrayed despite his protestations of love.
In terms of narrative style, the prose here is straightforward and simple. Curzon doesn’t try to novelise the lives of these women but this isn’t an issue because their lives are so colourful. The style of the book works and I was never bored reading this.
Overall, I would recommend this biography to fans of British History. While I’m not completely unfamiliar with the Regency era, since I am a fan of Austen, I’ve not been reading up on the monarchy in this time period so there was a lot of learn and enjoy in this book.
Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.
I opened NetGalley for the first time in a long time and stumbled across this book. Perhaps it’s because I moved to a new country alone this year, butI opened NetGalley for the first time in a long time and stumbled across this book. Perhaps it’s because I moved to a new country alone this year, but something about the book caught my eye and compelled me to read it.
In The Loneliness Epidemic, Susan Mettes uses data from the Barna Group to explore the topic of loneliness in America and what Christians and the Church can do about it. The book is broken into three parts:
What loneliness is Myths and Truths about loneliness The three pillars to protect against loneliness – Belonging, Closeness, and Expectations Apart from these three main sections, there are also two appendixes: (A) what the Bible says abut loneliness, and (B) Should we look for a “cure” for loneliness?
In the introduction, Mettes is clear that loneliness is not necessarily bad. She draws a line between occasional loneliness and chronic loneliness, writing that:
“Occasional loneliness is a foil to satisfying relationships. Thirsting for them every now and then might make us better at investing in intimacy.
“However, chronic loneliness is defined by deficiency and distress, and it has destructive effects on human life and creativity. Chronic loneliness is rooted in unquenchable insecurity.”
It’s this second, chronic loneliness, that Mettes tries to address. Although the book is America-centric, I still found the second part on the myths of loneliness to be eye-opening. While I don’t think you can copy of trends in America to Singapore wholesale, I think it’s possible to use the conclusions Mettes has drawn as a starting point to investigate the issue of loneliness in Singapore (or the country you’re in). Some points that I thought were interesting:
- The way to correct loneliness is by “investing more heavily in friendships than in family. That’s countercultural, but there’s good research behind it; researchers discovered that chosen rather than kin relationships tend to help us most with loneliness.” - There is a study based on the Framingham Heart Study which looked at the spread of loneliness. If you’re interested in reading it, I’ve found the paper here. - “Fighting loneliness means checking up on our intuitions about who is lonely” – rather than assume that certain groups are more at risk and others are fine, actually talk to and check on the people involved. - With regards to singleness, Mettes says that “the church has only intermittently honoured and supported singleness, although it should have always taken its goodness seriously” and this is a something that I agree with. - Social undermining, social injustice, and rejected are also related to loneliness, which means that when we are addressing loneliness, we should also be looking at the causes of marginalisaton as well. “As Van Opstal says, “Biblical justice is lived out in the life of a Christian who’s asking the questions, ‘How do I bring restoration?’ ‘How do I bring flourishing?'” That effort brings a Christian deeper into a purposeful pursuit of a less lonely society.” - Social media, when used correctly, does not lead to loneliness and can be used to supplement relationships. But it can be a contributor to the problem if you do not have strong real-life relationships.
The last section of the book is targeted towards Church leaders, on what they can do to combat the problem of chronic loneliness. For the rest of the Church, one practical step all of us can take would be to practice hospitality – opening our homes to others. It’s something that we are called to do, but the traditional forms of hospitality have been paused due to COVID-19. In that case, have we found ways new ways of showing hospitality?
Overall, I found The Loneliness Epidemic to be a thoughtful and timely book. While the book is centred on America, I think the suggestions on how we can check up on others and include those in our community can be easily tweaked to fit the cultural norms in other countries (like Singapore). Since COVID-19 is supposed to be endemic, I think this book would be a valuable resource in helping Church leaders continue to ensure that we remain an inclusive and welcoming community.
Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book from NetGalley. All opinions are my own.
Nature-writing? Yes! History? Yes! A History of Nature? Where do I start reading? That’s basically my thought process when I saw 3.5 stars, rounded up
Nature-writing? Yes! History? Yes! A History of Nature? Where do I start reading? That’s basically my thought process when I saw The Wood That Built London on Netgalley.
The Wood That Built London is a history of the North Wood, starting from prehistoric times all the way to the present day. As you can imagine, that’s a huge undertaking and the book delves into many fascinating details about the woods, including charters regarding the woods, the Forest law (which was hated so much that it was repealed when the Magna Carta was signed), the oak change (a mysterious phenomenon that might be due to the introduction of oak mildew), and many other facts. I never knew that trees could have such a rich and deep history, nor did I realise how deeply the British depended on these woods.
Despite all these fascinating stories, The Wood The Built London can be a bit difficult to read because it’s very hard to make an emotional connection, or sustain interest in a book about trees (since I’m not the Lorax). I think I half expected this to be something along the lines of Field Notes from the Edge, which did not have an overarching storyline to the book but still held my interest. The Wood That Built London was very information-dense and sadly, it was far too easy to just read a little and put the book down. It didn’t help that I’m not super familiar with London, so a lot of the time the names and places just flew over my head; I think a connection to modern-day areas would have helped anchor the place better for me.
Overall, this was an interesting book, but one that I would recommend only for a very specific group of people. If you’re extremely interested in history, especially the history of London and if you’re keen to read something that’s full of information but may not have that much of a personal touch, then this may be the book for you. Or, if you’re not like me, maybe you could just dip in and out of the book, because there really are quite a few interesting stories in here.
Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.
I found this book on NetGalley, and even though I read more manga than graphic novels, I requested it because of its subject matter. I’m fascinated byI found this book on NetGalley, and even though I read more manga than graphic novels, I requested it because of its subject matter. I’m fascinated by True Crime, and the fact that it was subtitled as a “memoir of a true-crime obsession” made me think it would be a cross between Gone at Midnight (in that the author’s journey is important) and Savage Appetites (exploring why women, in particular, are so drawn to the genre).
Unfortunately, I think Murder Book fell short of one of these expectations. It was an intensely personal book, exploring why she and her family all seemed to be into True Crime, but attempts to explore the bigger issues in the genre seemed to be a little lacking. For example, podcasts like Serial and My Favourite Murder were brought up, but the toxic culture/allegations of toxicity found in some podcasts and other problematic aspects (ahem, the host of Sword and Scale) were completely glossed over. For example, is it okay to use 911 calls in the podcast? Are jokey catchphrases fun or disrespectful to victims? Can we use podcasts as advocacy channels or are they meant to be as balanced as possible? I was hoping for some discussion of these questions because they are questions that I have, but they didn’t appear, although there was a segment on racism in the true-crime industry which led to “women make true crime better”, which is not the conclusion I was going for.
That said, in exploring her family’s personal history with murder, Hilary does talk about anxiety about one’s safety and empathy as one reason why women are fascinated with murder, and I thought that section was interesting and the closest we got to exploring the appeal of the genre. Her other reasons, like wanting to live in the 70s/80s or having very casual parents, felt a bit too specific/American and I couldn’t really relate with those.
Another thing I liked were the recaps of the cases. I already knew a few, like the Ted Bundy one because I’ve read Ann Rule’s book, but I have never heard of Tom Capano and I thought that the case was fascinating (Wikipedia link if anyone wants to look at it).
Overall, I enjoyed this but it was not the book for me. Thinking about it, the reason why I was not as engaged with the book as I wanted was that I didn’t know why I should be interested in Hilary’s story. Is she meant to be a typical (American) fan? Was she trying to explore meta-issues about the genre? I don’t know. Add a rather rambly and meandering narrative style to this and I wasn’t particularly interested in the book – the next book on my TBR was probably a bigger motivator to me finishing this! But I did enjoy some of the recaps, so it wasn’t a complete washout for me.
P.s. Friends who are familiar with graphic novels – is it common to have the author draw herself on the toilet a lot? I think I saw a toilet scene at least five times and it didn’t really feel like a motif/that it had any deeper symbolism (like the Psycho shower scene or something, it was just her sitting on the toilet), so I’m not sure if it’s a common thing?
Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley, but all opinions are my own.
Since COVID-19 looks like it will be endemic, I thought it would be useful to know a bit more about pandemics in general. Which is why the book PlagueSince COVID-19 looks like it will be endemic, I thought it would be useful to know a bit more about pandemics in general. Which is why the book Plagued by John Froude attracted my attention – I thought it would be useful.
As its title says, Plagued is a book about plagues and it covers:
- The Black Death (Bubonic Plague) - Cholera - Typhus - Tuberculosis - Syphilis - Malaria - Smallpox - Yellow Fever - Spanish Flu - HIV - West Nile Virus/Zika/Ebola (this is all one chapter) - SARS, MERS, COVID-19 (this is all one chapter)
Each chapter contains an overview of what caused the particular plague and how it broke out/its impact on the human population. Where relevant, the author added his own experience – for example, treating patients with cholera and his experience with COVID-19 (this was a whole chapter by itself). There’s also a lot of interesting facts inside; I didn’t know that India had practiced inoculation for a thousand years!
For the most part, each chapter is relatively short and it feels like a lot of information is being packed inside. While I generally appreciated the overview, I did think that the book just skipped over things at times – for example, as someone who remembers how scary SARS was for my country, the sentence stating that “it came and went” irked me a little. It might have just come and gone for people in the West, but I distinctly remember schools in Singapore shutting down over it. It also affected a few other countries, mostly in Asia, but it was definitely a big thing to us.
Another thing I noticed about the book was that the chapters seemed to be relatively self-contained. While that allowed me to dip in and out of the book as I wanted, it also meant that the book felt a bit disjointed at times, like a collection of essays around the same theme. I had thought it would increase my general understandings of plagues and pandemics, so this was a bit of a disappointment.
Overall, this is an interesting book that provides a good overview of some of the most famous plagues that have affected us. If you’re interested in reading about any of the above pandemics, you may be interested in picking up this book.
Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book from the publisher via NetGalley but all opinions in this book are my own.
I requested this book because the description sounded good, but it seems like I’m out of the loop because almost all my Christian friends have heard oI requested this book because the description sounded good, but it seems like I’m out of the loop because almost all my Christian friends have heard of the instagram account: preachersnsneakers. But if you’re like me, Preachers n Sneakers is an account that points out when famous pastors wear very expensive clothes, because there’s something off about it. This book expands on the concept and discusses topics like:
- Making money while in Church ministry (is there such thing as paying pastors too much?) - Christian celebrities - Posting on Instagram - The new form of Prosperity Gospel - The role of politics in religion - Church merchandise (I didn’t even know this was a thing?) - Callout culture
As you can imagine, with this many topics, it’s going to be hard to dig deep into any of them (I mean, the issue of money and the Church can be the subject of many books). However, Preachers n Sneakers manages to give the reader an overview of the issues, which is enough information to get people to think about it. I think this would actually make for good cell-group/youth group material because each chapter ends with discussion questions. The last chapter of the book has some practical tips from the author, but in general I would classify this as a book that makes you think rather than a book that tells you what to do.
Additionally, this book is very American-centric in its view. But, I think that this book is important to Christians outside of America because America’s version of Christianity has an outsized influence. If we’re not aware of some of the problematic trends that are going on in the Church in America, then we might unintentionally bring them to our country.
In terms of style, the prose is fairly sarcastic and very “internet” (if that makes sense), so I imagine it’s going to appeal more to young people than older folks/people who don’t use the Internet, who might not even know that these issues exist.
Overall, I think this is a very accessible and important book for young Christians today. Preachers n Sneakers goes beyond a critique of pastors wearing expensive clothes and looks at the phenomenon of Internet fame, consumer culture, and even politics and how it all intersects with the Christian faith – things that are relevant to all believers in Jesus.
Also, it has the best dedication I’ve seen so far.
Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book from the publisher via Netgalley, but all thoughts are my own.
I distinctly remember hearing about this book from one or two of the blogs I follow, but I can’t find your post so thank you to anyone who has recommeI distinctly remember hearing about this book from one or two of the blogs I follow, but I can’t find your post so thank you to anyone who has recommended this book earlier in the year! I’m a big fan of mysteries and I’m always looking for more translated works, so this book appealed to me a lot.
The Silence of the White City is set in Vitoria, Basque (Spain), where a serial killer has re-appeared after twenty years. The complication: the man that was convicted of the first set of crimes is still in jail.
As a youth, Inspector Unai López de Ayala was obsessed with these ritualistic murders. Now, he’s in charge of investigating these new killings, and he’s convinced that the answer lies in the past. But will he work with the killer in jail, or will he find the truth by himself?
To be honest, the book and I got off to a rough start. The translation felt rather awkward and I felt like I was just given a lot of information. I think it’s because the book is written in first person, and a lot of the statements sound as though Unai is self-consciously telling us about what happening. Plus, there was a lot of backstory/explanatory narrative in the first chapter; for example, when we meet Estibaliz, Unai’s work partner and best friend, we’re told that they are working on following orders, that Unai turns a blind eye to “some of the addictions that still slipped into Esti’s life” while she looks the other way when he disobeys his superiors, followed by an explanation of what Unai’s speciality is (criminal profiling) and what Estibaliz specialises in. It is a lot of information, and it felt a bit awkward to be given all of that before we saw Unai and Estibaliz work the crime scene.
Thankfully, I managed to settle into the rhythm of the book after a while and enjoyed it quite a bit. I think that the middle is a bit draggy (there’s basically one really big red herring that wasted a lot of time) but when the book hit the latter half, things moved pretty quickly and the tension quickly rocketed up.
As for characters, I didn’t particularly like or dislike any of them. I found the subplot involving Unai’s love-life rather inexplicable, but then again I’m generally not a romance fan so I probably missed out on a lot of cues about how the relationship was developing.
What I really liked about this book was the setting. It was clear that the translator tried his best to retain the atmosphere of Vitoria in writing, and I enjoyed the descriptions of the city and the festivals that occurred (even if they did feel like info-dumps sometimes). I also appreciated the fact that not everything was translated – words like cuadrilla, which from googling doesn’t seem to have a perfect English translation, were left as-is, which helped me to pick up what it meant from context (rather than from an imprecise translation).
Overall, this book was a bit of a mixed bag for me. I liked the setting of the book, and the mystery was rather good once Unai was on the right track, but the translation felt a little clunky and I took so long to get used to the book and for the mystery to pick up pace that I’m a bit hesitant to pick up the second book in this series.
Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book from NetGalley
Have you ever started a book because you thought it was one thing and it turned out to be another? This is what happened to me with The Bone Fire and Have you ever started a book because you thought it was one thing and it turned out to be another? This is what happened to me with The Bone Fire and to be honest, I’m not sure what I feel about this.
I thought that The Bone Fire was a fantasy that starts in a post-revolution country (and had the impression of a portal-esque fantasy like The Book of Lost Things) but it’s actually a coming of age story with magical realism undertones.
The Bone Fire starts with Emma being taken away from the orphanage by the Grandmother she never met. I thought the Grandmother was going to be the bad guy, but that’s not the case. What we get is a dreamy, hazy narrative as Emma tries to settle down in her new town and all that she goes through. There may be magic involved, or it may be Emma trying to cope with her new surroundings and all the bullying and the fact that her grandmother is getting older and frailer.
For me, the distinguishing point of the book is the narration. It’s told in first person present tense, which has the effect of making the reader feel as though they are in Emma’s head and experiencing things from her point of view. It’s both intimate and somewhat distancing at the same time, since there’s a stream of consciousness vibe about the whole book. I don’t even think I felt empathy or identified much with Emma, because of this.
The story itself was fairly interesting but there wasn’t much point. I think because I expected a more conventional fantasy, I wanted something with a goal in mind, even if the goal shifted by the end of the book. Instead, most of the book was about Emma’s every day life and struggles, and the Big Events only happened all at once towards the end.
Overall, this was an interesting read. Writing all this out, I can see that it’s a lot more ‘literary’ than I thought going in, which was probably why I was disconnected throughout most of the book. I think that some people are going to love this, some aren’t going to connect with it at all, and some will be like me – a bit confused by the whole thing.
P.s. I think my true thoughts on this will only be known after a few months, because I need to figure out if this made a lasting impression or if I’ll forget about it after a few books.
Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book via NetGalley
At first glance, Here She Is doesn’t sound like something I would read or request from NetGalley, given that it’s about the history of the beauty pageAt first glance, Here She Is doesn’t sound like something I would read or request from NetGalley, given that it’s about the history of the beauty pagent, something that I’ve not been involved in nor follow. But, I do like reading about histories of obscure subjects, I was intrigued by the idea of using a feministic lens while reviewing the history, and I remember enjoying Miss Congeniality. So here we are.
The book does what it promises to do – look at the history of beauty pageants and how they intersect with feminism. In short, Friedman argues that the first pageants (which were for children rather than women) helped women to appear in the public sphere in a respectable way, coinciding with the right to vote. As time goes by, pageants continue to play a role in shaping the role of women in the public eye (and through the scholarship and social platform components, to promote certain ideas). At the same time, pageants have a complicated relationship with feminism, which I think can be summed up in the question: are they empowering or are they objectifying?
Since I didn’t know much about the topic, I learnt quite a bit and revised my view on the use of pageants, mostly in the time where women had very limited spaces to appear and how this might be used for them to gain scholarships or launch a platform. That said, the very academic tone of the book means that it’s not the most accessible work.
From what I can tell, the author has done a lot of research in looking through old pageant books to establish trends and interviewing people who are involved in the pageant world; I particularly enjoyed the section where she interviews women who were involved in pageants as children and how they had very different experiences and attitudes towards child pageants. However, I did see this review by Nicole Kelly (who was mentioned briefly in the book) with regards to inaccuracies in the chapter on intersectionality and pageants, so while I trust the general narrative of the book, I’m not as sure about the details.
Overall, I enjoyed this book. The subject matter was new to me and I liked the way that it was explored (even though I could do with a slightly more accessible text). As someone who’s exposure to the Beauty Pageant world happens only through a few movies, I learnt quite a bit about its history and relationship to feminism, something that I had not considered before.
I have been waiting eight years for this book and it has been so worth the wait.
Rewind to 2012 – the year where I was applying for university scholarsI have been waiting eight years for this book and it has been so worth the wait.
Rewind to 2012 – the year where I was applying for university scholarships and trying to finish as many books in my school library before I graduated. Sometime during the year, I participated in a blog tour for a book named Thorn, a retelling of The Goose Girl, and fell in love. Unusually for me, I signed up for the author’s mailing list and I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS BOOK EVER SINCE.
(Honestly, if there wasn’t a mailing list, I may not have remembered but I’ve been reminded of this on and off for years so can you imagine my excitement when I heard The Theft of Sunlight was ready??)
The Theft of Sunlight is set in the same world as Thorn. While you don’t have to have read Thorn to appreciate this, I highly recommend you do so because:
1) Thorn is a fantastic retelling of The Goose Girl and
2) It will help you understand a lot of the character relationships. While Rae, our protagonist, is a new character to this world, many of the main secondary characters were in Thorn and it really helps the reading experience if you know what they’ve gone through.
(Ok, I’m finally done with the digressions)
The Theft of Sunlight starts when Rae’s best friend’s sister is taken by the “snatchers”. In order to learn more about this mysterious, possibly magical group, Rae accepts an invitation from her cousin, who married a nobleman, to accompany her at court while she is pregnant. But shortly after she gets there, Rae is taken into the service of the Princess (the Prince’s betrothed) and given a secret, secondary task to investigate the disappearance of the children.
Honestly this book was phenomenal. Rae is the best – although she is born with a club foot, she has never let that get in her way and carries out her responsibilities as faithfully as possible. I also love how the secondary characters were mostly supportive and wholesome. For example, Prince Kestrin and Princess Alyrra’s relationship made me melt (this is the topic of Thorn so please read it) and I’m not a romance person! Rae and her cousin, Melly, was also uplifting to read, and I also enjoyed Rae’s budding romance with a certain side character.
But although the core supporting characters are all so lovable, there are, unfortunately, others. The court ladies are standoffish until a foreigner makes them band together around Rae and Alyrra (sounds familiar…) and the foreign prince, Alyrra’s brother is downright despicable. Overall, I thought the book had an excellent mix of characters, from those I loved to those I loved to hate.
The story was intricate and the world even more real than what I experienced in Thorn. I suppose that now the book is free from the frame of the retelling, Intisar has managed to really expand the world and build upon the story. We have court politics, we have missing children, we have family relationships – this book has them all. One note of warning: this book does touch upon domestic abuse and slavery, and Intisar does not shy away from the effects of these.
There’s also one more thing to note. If you are a completionist, you might want to avoid this book until the next one is out. This is a duology and it definitely ends on a cliffhanger. Like with Thorn, I’m now super hyped for the next book and hoping it comes out soon!
If you’re a fan of fantasy or just well-told stories with really strong protagonists in a unique world, can I please recommend in the strongest and most polite terms that you read The Theft of Sunlight? It is amazing and I’m sure you won’t regret it.
I requested this from NetGalley because of two words: “Amish Vampires”. I mean, there is no way I’m not going to request this! And it’s not even a parI requested this from NetGalley because of two words: “Amish Vampires”. I mean, there is no way I’m not going to request this! And it’s not even a parody – Those who Hunger is an actual Amish vampire thriller. But while the book is interesting and has its good points, it was also let down by its length and pacing that did not manage to pick up enough speed.
Those Who Hunger has an interesting premise: the Amish are vampires. Not all of them, but as descendants of Cain, enough of them are marked that they will start to crave blood. Hadassah, a young Amish girl, finds out the truth about her heritage when an outsider tries to sexually assault her. Torn by the guilt and horrified by news of more murders, she takes advantage of her rumspringa season to travel to Chicago to find her estranged brother and find the truth.
Although ‘Amish Vampires’ could very well be the topic of a parody/satire story, the book plays it straight and does it well. The worldbuilding is serious and complex – Haddasah struggles with the implications of what being a vampire means and as she works through her struggles, her family has to deal with the discovery that her youngest sister, Mary, is also marked. This is a shocking secret, and because that the younger children are not told, Hadassah and her brother Peter are left with a lot of emotional baggage over this. I actually really liked how the novel handled their struggles about it.
That said, the story does have one fairly big flaw: pacing. Perhaps it’s because there are too many characters and too many subplots (for example, I didn’t see the need for Hadassah to have a romance), but the story didn’t feel like a thriller; quite the opposite, it felt quite slow to me. With the amount of character POVs in the book, I normally feel the story speed by, even if I don’t connect to the characters because of the constant switching, but this time, I had the unique experience of not connecting to most of the many characters (Hadassah being the exception) and feeling like the story dragged. Honestly, I felt like there was enough content for two or three books in this, and while I normally prefer standalone novels, perhaps the author should have developed this as a trilogy or duology to allow for the plot to speed up a little without losing any of the complexity.
As for the killings, it was a bit confusing. I know that Hadassah went to Chicago to find her estranged (and shunned) brother, but there was a sudden twist into how other vampires were doing and I wasn’t sure how it was related to the killings in a small town (plus all the romance stuff) and then the whole book seemed to speed up towards the end. Honestly, I don’t know if the Chicago section of the book was even necessary to solve the murders. And what was up with the detectives? Were they necessary? What were they even there for? The solution to the killings seemed unrelated to a good part of the book.
Overall, I’m kind of torn on this one. It’s definitely a unique premise and I really enjoyed the family and community tensions here. Hadassah is also a good protagonist. The pacing, however, doesn’t really match my expectations of a thriller and when you couple that with a rather confusing progression to the climax, you get a somewhat frustrating read. I guess it’s a tentative recommendation for me: pick this up if the concept of Amish Vampires appeal, but don’t expect this to behave like a typical thriller.
Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book via NetGalley. All opinions are my own.
As someone who’s made her fair share of relationship missteps over the years, How to Have a Better Relationship with Anybody intrigued me when I saw iAs someone who’s made her fair share of relationship missteps over the years, How to Have a Better Relationship with Anybody intrigued me when I saw it on NetGalley. It’s a look at relationships from a Christian perspective, and I found that it complemented God’s New Community and The Meeting Class quite well. While those two books focus on the importance of community, How to Have a Better Relationship with Anybody looks at how the individual functions within the community.
How to Have a Better Relationship with Anybody looks at 21 aspects of relationships, from avoiding bitterness and daring to connect to escaping jealousy and being vulnerable. Each chapter comes with a Biblical explanation of why this aspect of a relationship is important and ends with suggestions for practical steps that you could implement.
Some points that struck me were:
- Bitterness is long-lasting but often overlooked. It’s something that we need to work out because the one who’s hurt by it is us – the more we ruminate and nurture the roots of bitterness, the larger its effects on us.
- We must learn to have self-acceptance in Christ – that’s different from self-centred pride.
- Accepting things does not mean we should relish the hurt or count it as good, or as the book puts it, “acceptance is not approval.” Neither should we be praising God for evil things. As Paul Tournier puts it, “Accepting suffering, bereavement, and disease does not mean taking pleasure in them, steeling oneself against them, or hoping that distractions or the passage of time will make us forget them. It means offering them to God so that He can make them bring forth fruit.”
- Loving someone means confronting them in love if they need it, especially if they are part of the Body of Christ.
- Sometimes, God brings people into our lives to show us our faults (the book also cautions us that we shouldn’t assume everyone is brought into our lives for this purpose, but to remain sensitive to this possibility).
There are some very good reminders on how I should be interacting with others, but I did notice something in the book that made me uncomfortable. In one section, the author states that many “mental disorders are bitter attacks on others”. I definitely don’t agree with this and I think it’s a harmful generalisation. This doesn’t appear again in the text and the author doesn’t elaborate on it, but I felt it was noteworthy because the book is generally on point and I was disappointed by this statement.
Overall, I found this book to be a useful reminder on how we can work on ourselves (including accepting ourselves) to have better relationships with others. There is one area for concern, but for the most part, this should be helpful to Christians who are looking for practical advice on how to improve their relationships.
Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for a review.
I really like reading about nature (experiencing it is another matter) so when I saw this book on NetGalley, I really wanted to read it. UnfortunatelyI really like reading about nature (experiencing it is another matter) so when I saw this book on NetGalley, I really wanted to read it. Unfortunately for Birder on Berry Lane, I read it after I had read Pilgrim at Tinker Creek (the reviews are far apart because I didn’t want to post this so far before the publish date but don’t be fooled!)
Birder on Berry Lane is a year-long exploration and love song to the birds that visit Robert Tougias’s house on Berry Lane in Connecticut. As Tougias puts it in the introduction, this book is “an account of my awareness – seeing, thinking about, and appreciating the living habitat, nature, and most specifically birds going about their business.” In a way, it’s similar to Dillard’s aim of seeing, but with the focus aimed straight at our feathered friends.
But it would be a mistake to think that Birder on Berry Lane is similar to Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. They might both be about nature around the author’s home, but in style they couldn’t be more different. Dillard looks to see nature in new and unfamiliar eyes, to search for the “tree with lights in it”. Tougias is writing to show us about the beauty and wonder of birds to raise our awareness of them.
As such, Birder on Berry Lane feels like a quieter book, but that doesn’t mean that it’s without its charms. I learnt a lot about the birds in Connecticut while reading and for a moment, wanted to set up a bird feeder. But living in a HDB makes that fairly difficult so I abandoned that idea pretty quickly.
The book also comes with drawings of birds, which add to its quiet charm. Because the appearance of birds tend to be seasonal (at least, that’s what it appears to be for me), Tougias is able to focus on one or two birds for each month and intersperse his musings with drawings of them.
Overall, this is a quiet and charming book about birds. I’ve never really thought about them – except when that one annoying bird wakes me up (Singaporeans do you feel me?) – but I found a new appreciation for these small creatures after reading this.
Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book from NetGalley but the thoughts in this review are my own.
While I was requesting the book on Thor, I also chanced upon Warriors, Witches, and Women. Requesting this book from NetGalley was a no brainer becausWhile I was requesting the book on Thor, I also chanced upon Warriors, Witches, and Women. Requesting this book from NetGalley was a no brainer because I love mythology and I thought it would be very fun to have the spotlight on women in various myths from around the world. While I enjoyed this feminist take on various women in religions and myth overall, it failed to impress on several counts.
Warriors, Witches, Women looks at fifty different women that are grouped into five categories – Witches, Warriors, Bringers of Misfortune, Elemental Spirits, and Munificent Spirits. Each profile comes with an illustration, a quick biography and a short paragraph or two about their relevance to the modern world.
For the most part, I liked that the profiles managed to give the readers a good sense of the woman being discussed, exploring their mythology and bringing out their relevance. The author did mention that she chose certain narratives over others, but they don’t always seem to the most traditional ones. For example, in the story of Uzume, it’s said that the mirror was hung so that it could reflect Uzume’s butt, whereas I’ve always read that the mirror was hung from a tree so that Amaterasu could see her face. I imagine that would be hard to do so if it was reflecting Uzume’s butt.
I’m also a bit iffy on the book proclaiming that Saint Brigid was a lesbian – while I agree that her origins are possibly pagan, the claim that Brigid was in a relationship with her ‘soul sister’ seems to a bit of a reach and from what I understand, not an orthodox interpretation. The concept of Anam Cara, which I assume is the basis of the ‘soul sister’ claim, reminds me of David and Jonathan’s friendship which was deep and true and without romantic implications, as well as the call to koinonia within the Church. We should be celebrating and encouraging intimate friendships because we need friendships that are deep and true and it frustrates me a little to see that everything interpreted in a romantic way. So that chapter was mildly annoying on two accounts – first because we don’t know for sure what Brigid identified as and what was presented as fact seems to be a more modern interpretation, and second, because I’m tired of all ‘deep’ relationships being seen in a romantic light because that is not the be-all and end-all of our relationships. The whole “you can only find true happiness and fulfilment in a romantic relationship” idea is a damaging one that leads women to seek happiness in a relationship but that is a rant for another post.
I also liked that there was a reading list and a playlist at the end of the book so that you can use it as a starting point to explore more about the women featured here.
But sadly, there were a few points that stopped this book from being truly impressive to me.
Firstly, there was the issue of diversity. The book definitely tries to be diverse, but it came across to me as not trying very hard. Out of the fifty women profiled,
10 were Greek and/or Roman 16 were from Europe (out of the 16, 4 were from the Celtic mythos) 6 were from Asia 6 from the African continent 2 from the continent of America 10 from the rest of the world
I did my best but the contents page freely jumps between classifying by religion and ethnic group and as someone familiar mostly with Western and Asian cultures, I have a gap in my knowledge with regards to other countries. But even this count shows that over half the women are from traditional Western myths, with the Celtic myths representing a quarter of the whole of Europe. I’d argue that Asia and Africa have equally rich mythic traditions, yet they take up just under a quarter of all the women profiled. It seems like no matter what, there’s still dominance by the traditional Western and Greco-Roman myths.
Secondly, the women chosen were kind of odd too. I mean, from China we only have Mazu, but what about Guanyin, Chang’Er, Mulan, the Huli Jin, or historical figures like the four great beauties? From Japan, there’s the Futakuchi Onna and Ame no Uzume but what about Ameterasu, Yuki-Onna, Murasaki Shikibu? Where are Korean women? Where are Cambodian women? Malay and Indonesian get lumped together in the Pontianak, which is described as a “Malay ghost” but whose Indonesian moniker, Kuntilanak, is also mentioned. I can only really comment on the Asian section but it felt rather random and unbalanced, especially compared to the amount of Green and Roman women mentioned. I can imagine that just reducing the number of Greek and Roman women (most of whom are already pretty famous) to three or four and then adding one or two women from other parts of the world would have made it so much more diverse.
And the parts that were diverse really were the best parts. My favourite bigoraphies were of women who were completely new to me, such as Mami Wata (African goddess) and Yennenga (Mossi, African Princess). If the book wanted to celebrate the lesser-known women figures, as it seems from the Asian selection, then I want to see more of them and less of the more mainstream names like Hel, the Valkyries, Freyja, Cassandra, Medusa, etc.
Finally, the illustrations were a bit odd too – the one about the Pontianak did not remind me of a pontianak at all. Perhaps it’s the lack of blood on her dress, perhaps it’s because her colouring was very similar to that of the selkies, but I did not get pontianak feels. The Japanese characters were better but I suspect it’s a lot to do with the kimonos.
Overall, I’m conflicted about the book. I really like the concept and I think that for the most part, the biographies are well done but I wasn’t impressed with some of the illustrations and while I really love the Greek, Roman, Celtic, and Norse myths, I would have loved to see more from other countries as well. I suppose this is a case of misaligned expectations – For some reason, the introduction made me think it would be a lot more diverse than I found it.
Disclaimer: I received a free copy of this book from NetGalley.
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