book collage for January! The standout read was really a listen: The Bird Way by Jennifer Ackerman, which kept us all riveted during our NZ road trip. The other books were good too.
Starter Villain, by John Scalzi: This is a typical Scalzi book, so all the good guys are extremely witty and snarky, and talk circles around the clueless, blustering bad guys. Down-on-his-luck teacher Charlie suddenly inherits a vast fortune from his uncle, except he also inherits his uncle’s problems: his uncle was a supervillain, and has made enemies of an entire cadre of other supervillains. Fortunately, Charlie has his uncle’s capable assistant as well as his team of extremely intelligent cats (and a pod of sarcastic dolphins) to help him out. Scalzi’s constantly lighthearted tone means that Charlie’s eventual victory is never in doubt, which ruins the tension somewhat; no worries, it’s an entertaining journey to get there.
The Bird Way, by Jennifer Ackerman: We listened to this nonfiction book about birds as we drove around NZ and the entire family* absolutely loved it. Ackerman talks about bird behavior in an incredibly intriguing and entertaining way, leaving you awed and full of wonder. The book began with birds close to home, comparing the behavior of noisy miners and fairy wrens in different parts of Canberra; Ackerman then talks about fascinating bird behavior observed all around the world, including the incredible lyrebird which mixes and matches the songs of other birds in its calls, and the incredibly intelligent and playful kea, alpine parrots of New Zealand. We learned so many fascinating facts about birds and we were all sad when the book was over.
- when listening with the kids, we skipped over the chapter about mating, and listened to it on our own. Mallards are… not gentle with one another.
Thornhedge, by T. Kingfisher: Fantasy, but because it’s T. Kingfisher, it’s fantasy with a twist: we open on Toadling, a little fairy who has encouraged a thorny hedge to grow around a castle. Within the castle sleeps someone or something so dangerous that Toadling fears anything ever waking it. However, one day a knight comes along, someone both dangerously curious and disarmingly kind. As he and Toadling open up to one another, both he and the reader learn about Toadling’s past and what brought her to these desperate straits. Sad, sweet, and a great story about chosen family.
The Garden of the Gods, by Gerald Durrell: Third in Durrell’s autobiographical series of his childhood in Corfu, this volume is probably lightest on the natural history and heaviest on the funny anecdotes. One chapter in particular was so perfectly hilarious that I read the entire thing out loud to the family. Durrell has plenty of stories to mine and interesting facts to share, but on top of that his writing is also excellent; the denizens and landscapes of Corfu are described beautifully and lovingly, and the funny bits have perfect punchlines. Sad to finish this series.
The Night Eaters 2: Her Little Reapers, by Marjorie Liu and Sana Takeda: Graphic novel, sequel to The Night Eaters. Liu and Takeda mix creepy storytelling with incredibly lush and beautiful artwork as always. In the previous book, twins Milly and Billy have learned a family secret from their Chinese immigrant parents Ipo and Keon, and all four are trying to navigate the new dynamic between them. The kids find themselves at odds with their parents on how much they should be allowed to know and do, and this very human and relatable conflict gives the story heart even through the demons, monsters, murders, and evil magic. I also love the relationship between good-natured Keon and scowling, taciturn Ipo. Sad to have to wait for the next installment.
The Secret of Cooking, by Bee Wilson: This cookbook is the reassuring hug you want in the kitchen. Wilson acknowledges that people are busy, that cooking is hard when you’re tired, and that meal planning is impossible when you have a million other things on your mind. She gently reassures you that cooking is what works for you, not what works for recipe developers with unlimited ingredients and sous chefs and people who wash their dishes; she suggests adaptations, shortcuts, and make-aheads. Recipes are interspersed with just enough personal stories to make this a nice book to read, not just a listing of recipes. The grouping of recipes is a little odd, but that’s my only quibble with this otherwise lovely cookbook.
The Game of Courts, by Victoria Goddard: Novella, high fantasy, prequel to The Hands of the Emperor. This is the Fall of Astandalas from the viewpoint of Conju, nobleman and artist, who finds his way from useless court decoration to the role of valued advisor to the Emperor. For fans of the series, it’s a treat to see familiar characters from Conju’s eyes; for new readers… do not start here.
The Water Outlaws, by S.L. Huang: This is a genderbent wuxia-filled retelling of Water Margin, a Chinese martial arts classic about a band of outlaws who unite in rebellion against a corrupt government. Huang’s heroines are Lin Chong, a dutiful soldier turned reluctant rebel fighter, and Lu Junyi, a defiant socialite who finds herself in tricky situations; neither of them start out wanting to take down the government, but eventually they must choose a side. There’s very little subtlety in the plot or characters: the bad guys are overtly evil and the good guys (almost all women) have extremely pure motives. Huang embraces the wuxia aesthetic and delivers a gloriously violent and increasingly unlikely storyline. I liked Lin Chong’s half of the story better than Lu Junyi’s, which got… super weird and depressing. Very entertaining overall.
Lone Women, by Victor Lavalle: This is a… historical fantasy thriller, set in the frontier American West just before Prohibition. The book opens with Adelaide Henry setting fire to her parents’ house, then lugging a mysterious and heavy trunk onto a truck as she sets out towards Montana. Adelaide, a Black farmer from California, is joining a small but determined group: the “lone women,” without the support of men, who have resolved to make a homestead for themselves in an unforgiving landscape. Adelaide is aware of the problems that her gender and race pose for herself, but her major worry is reserved for the contents of the trunk, for good reason. Great balance of plot tension, social commentary, and compelling characters.
Why Fish Don’t Exist, by Lulu Miller: When an earthquake struck Stanford University in 1906, separating samples from labels and destroying years of careful taxonomic organization, icthyologist and Stanford president David Starr Jordan did not despair; defiantly, he plunged a pin into the body of a fish and secured the label directly onto its scales. Author Miller was so impressed by Jordan’s unstoppable drive, especially in contrast to her own insecurity and depression, that she delves into his life looking for inspiration. What follows is a mixture of biography (Jordan) and memoir (Miller) that works fairly well, especially if you have a high tolerance for navel-gazing (Miller’s reflections on mental health are interesting, but she also spends a lot of time anguishing about the fallout of cheating on her partner). As Miller uncovers more and more disturbing facts about Jordan, she becomes more unmoored, until finally she finds solace in unexpected realizations. I enjoyed her journey through learning about Jordan’s life, but felt Miller’s half of the story was much less interesting.
Oh and Guards! Guards! by Pratchett, which should have been a reread, but it turns out I remembered very little of it so it was almost fresh. I’m starting the kid on the Night Watch section of Discworld now, because Vimes is my favorite. The kid is really enjoying it, thank goodness.