Came for the rock’n’roll stories from an artist whose music I enjoy; stayed for the self-deprecating humor, unashamed fanboying, and poignant, heartfelt stories from a man who never stopped being grateful for the improbable delights in his life. Grohl grew up in northern Virginia, so I was able to identify both with his childhood memories of the DC area as well as his feelings of recognition and homecoming every time he returned. I particularly liked listening to him narrate the audiobook; his enjoyment of storytelling was palpable and a delight to the listener.
Tag: format-audiobook
A Conspiracy of Truths, by Alexandra Rowland, read by James Langton
This book had one of the best beginnings I’ve ever read, followed by one of the slowest and most boring middles, before it ramped slowly upwards towards a pretty decent ending. This is another Thousand and One Nights type nested-stories book, except the storyteller is a crochety old man, unjustly imprisoned in a foreign country, whose only friend is his extremely sweet and naive apprentice, and whose only weapon is the vast library of stories in his brain. From his prison cell, he grasps at any bits of news of the outside world that he can get, slowly weaving them into an almost unbelievable escape plan. This book has a lot to say about stories, about the stories that we tell ourselves both individually and collectively, and how we use them to shape our lives and our fates. It’s a truly interesting framing device, but personally I got tired of the narrator pretty quickly; he’s extremely unlikeable and makes very questionable decisions, and you never get to leave his head. I did love the cast, which included a lot of extremely strong female characters (though not many of them were likeable either). There was a lot of politics and it was a bit difficult to keep track of all the players; also, some of the stories were clearly meant to convey an underlying point but that point was often lost on me. I eventually made it through (as does the storyteller, who obviously lives to tell the tale) but, like the storyteller, I also feel like I suffered unduly in the process. I recommend the audiobook; Langton does a very good grumpy old man and it’s probably thanks to his narration that I got through the boring bits of the book at all (I would likely have abandoned a print copy partway through). The oral storytelling format also works really well with the first-person narration.
Say Nothing: A True Story of Murder and Memory in Northern Ireland, by Patrick Radden Keefe, read by Matt Blamey
This book about the Troubles, covering the political violence in Northern Ireland from the 1960s to the late 80s, is written so intensely that it feels like a novel. At times you even wish it were a novel, because it’s so inescapably painful to remember that these are real people in history, who lived in terror while their friends and neighbors chose to enact violence and tragedy upon one another. Keefe tells the story by focusing on the individuals. He begins with Jean McConville, a widow who was taken directly from her home while her ten children watched and never seen again. Then he digs into the members of the paramilitary forces likely involved in her disappearance, giving voice to their anger, their pain, and their pride, without excusing their actions in the slightest. As the sad story moves on he also reveals government operations, both clandestine and open, and how those actions may well have done more to continue the violence than to defuse it. The book also covers the I.R.A.’s unlikely evolution from terrorist group to political party, the lies everyone told themselves in order to accept the transition peacefully, and the impact on those left behind, both within and without the I.R.A. Blamey’s Irish-accented narration, quiet but intense, is an amazing way to experience the book. “Say Nothing” is a brilliant title; it touches on the strict code of silence around the actions of the I.R.A., but also points to how those left in the aftermath would rather look the other way than dig up (sometimes literally) the problems that prompted the Troubles in the first place.
Fly Girls: How Five Daring Women Defied All Odds and Made Aviation History, by Keith O’Brien, read by Erin Bennett
Fascinating look at the early days of aviation, when male pilots were celebrated for their daring and skill, and women were actively discouraged from trying to fly planes at all. The women profiled in this book are brought to life not just as pilots, but as extremely interesting and driven people. Rich girl Ruth Nichols took flying lessons in secret, then leveraged her connections to raise money for funding for her flights; saleswoman Louise Thaden got free flying lessons from a customer and never looked back; actress Ruth Elder, not content with film stardom, demanded the chance to break records in the sky; mechanic Florence Klingensmith wanted nothing more than to prove she could fly as well or better than the boys… and social worker Amelia Earhart, who was plucked from obscurity by a publisher who wanted a feel-good story, seized control of her narrative and became an advocate for women in aviation. O’Brien fills the book with details of their struggles, quoting men who doubted their abilities and mocked their ambitions, and crediting the women with fighting on. It is enraging and stirring, and you cannot help but be in awe of the strength and determination of the women who fought for the right to simply do what the men were doing already. If I had one criticism of this book it would be that O’Brien sometimes spends just as much time detailing the histories and actions of the men of the time; I would have preferred a greater focus on the women.
How to be Perfect: The Correct Answer to Every Moral Question, by Michael Schur
Michael Schur is the creator of The Good Place, and in this book he entertainingly summarizes all of the philosophy that he picked up along the way. To sum up: there is no way to be perfect. But there is still good in trying. Schur marches cheerfully through classic philosophical dilemmas, first presenting different philosophers’ takes on them, then pointing out issues with each answer. There are several satisfying callbacks to The Good Place; several cast members also take turns reading some of the quotations from the book, which was lovely to hear. The constant variations on the same theme did get tiresome after a while, but Schur’s narration is smooth and enjoyable, so it wasn’t hard to keep going. Certainly I suspect it was much easier to read this than to try to read the philosophers’ original writings. (Something I found personally amusing: he refers to the “trolley problem” and also brings up the “shopping cart problem“, but here in Australia, shopping carts are referred to as trolleys! So the two problems have the same name.)
Delivering Evil for Experts, by Annette Marie, read by Cris Dukehart
This book overlaps Damned Souls and a Sangria by a good amount, which eases the tension level somewhat. As a reader my experience was mostly “ah ok, that’s what Robin was doing when she was offscreen,” which made the book less tense in general even though the danger level remained high. Loved that we got to see growth not just in Robin and Zylas, but in the secondary characters as well. As a series finale, excellent resolution for both the characters and the plot, with an adorable extra chapter at the end.
Damned Souls and a Sangria, by Annette Marie, read by Cris Dukehart
Triumphant and satisfying conclusion to the adventures of Tori the human bartender, who finds family and friends in the mythic world. One of my favorite things about this series is that although stakes get higher and more tense throughout, as is standard in urban fantasy (see: Dresden Files, October Daye), main character Tori doesn’t really level up along with it, except emotionally. She doesn’t ever become magical like her friends, though they do occasionally provide her with cool toys; instead (and this is going to sound trite but I promise it works) she learns over and over again that her real strength is her faith in herself and in her friends. (A ridiculous number of whom are incredibly hot. I’m just saying.) Anyway, this series was a really fun ride and so well done, and I’m really happy with the ending to Tori’s part.
Rogue Ghosts & Other Miscreants, by Annette Marie and Rob Jacobsen, read by Iggy Toma
Book 3 of the “Warped” sub-series of Marie’s Guild Codex, this installment features some character growth from rookie agent Kit Morris, helped along by his long-suffering partner and a surprise guest from the main series. Kit’s narration is priceless as usual, full of hilarious one-liners, and Toma hits the perfect irreverent tone for the narration. Pretty good tie-in back to the main series at the end of the book, as well.
Lost Talismans and a Tequila, by Annette Marie, read by Cris Dukehart and Teddy Hamilton
At this point in Marie’s urban fantasy series (book 7 of the Spellbound series, but 15th? in the main storyline), we’ve reached the point where there’s no point in explaining anything and you’d probably better read the preceding 14 or so books first. I will just say that since the events of this book overlap with the previous one (from another character’s viewpoint), some of the urgency is muted; you know that most of the characters survive and therefore you’re not really stressed for them. That said, very impressed by Marie’s worldbuilding and plotting as she brings together elements introduced several books ago. I was a little put off by Teddy Hamilton’s reading; he did a perfectly good job but he wasn’t Dukehart and didn’t use her voice for the character. I found myself lingering over the ways they said words differently, and was relieved every time she took over the narration again.
Becoming, by Michelle Obama
For me, Michelle Obama’s memoir was a good mix of known and unknown: enough familiarity to resonate with my experiences, with enough differences to fascinate and educate me. I loved learning about her childhood, growing up aware of class differences but buttressed by a supportive family; I was in awe of her journey from Chicago’s South Side to the Ivy League and Biglaw; I sympathized with her struggles with work-life balance and search for career fulfillment, while keeping in mind what she owed to her roots and her family. I also loved seeing Barack through her eyes; her tolerance and affection was palpable through her voice in the audiobook. I could have used a little more of her perspective on the global events that happened during the Obama administration though; instead, she pointedly kept out of politics for the most part and concentrated the bulk of her narrative on her initiatives for child nutrition and her concerns about raising her daughters with as much normalcy as possible. The major awkwardness about this book is that although Michelle Obama is an impressive woman by any measure, at the end of the day she becomes defined by traditionally feminine roles: wife, and mother. She works with the title throughout the memoir, “becoming” first one thing and then another; as her husband retires from politics and her daughters grow into their own, she may find herself more free to transcend traditional roles.