
Babel : Or the Necessity of Violence by R. F. Kuang
Traduttore, traditore: An act of translation is always an act of betrayal. 1828. Robin Swift, orphaned by cholera in Canton, …
(he/him)
Curious microbiologist outside of academia working to make it possible to launch biotechnology projects from unlikely spaces (hopefully community driven!). Reading sci-fi since I was little (probably started with Monica Hughes) and I try to mix it up with some non-fiction too.
Find me on my main Fediverse account -> scholar.social/@danwchan
This link opens in a pop-up window
Traduttore, traditore: An act of translation is always an act of betrayal. 1828. Robin Swift, orphaned by cholera in Canton, …
Started reading it slowly at first, enjoying the expressive little vignettes that offered glimpses into Kate's life and the decision to move to the oil sands. But as the moments accumulated I began to read faster wondering where all these scenes would lead to. By the end there wasn't so much of a climax but a realization that life has no climax—that every moment is a chance for bravery and tragedy; that with intention memories can be digested into lessons not just for ourselves but for others as well. I think the comment by Alison Bechdel on the dust cover says it well:
“In Ducks, Kate Beaton doesn’t tell us how capitalism extracts, exploits, commodifies, and alienates. Nor does she show us. She recreates life in an oil sands mining operation in granular detail and allows us to make the connections ourselves―as she had to when she showed up to …
Started reading it slowly at first, enjoying the expressive little vignettes that offered glimpses into Kate's life and the decision to move to the oil sands. But as the moments accumulated I began to read faster wondering where all these scenes would lead to. By the end there wasn't so much of a climax but a realization that life has no climax—that every moment is a chance for bravery and tragedy; that with intention memories can be digested into lessons not just for ourselves but for others as well. I think the comment by Alison Bechdel on the dust cover says it well:
“In Ducks, Kate Beaton doesn’t tell us how capitalism extracts, exploits, commodifies, and alienates. Nor does she show us. She recreates life in an oil sands mining operation in granular detail and allows us to make the connections ourselves―as she had to when she showed up to work there at age twenty-one. The effect is devastating. Despite the brutal toll Beaton suffered personally, she has woven from her experience a vast and complex tapestry that captures the humanity of people doing a kind of “dirty work” in which we are all complicit, and it shimmers with grace.”―Alison Bechdel
When I think about the story that comes together in these pages I cannot help but feel the unbelievable tragedy they describe. And yet I would recommend it to any fan of the medium of graphic novels/webscomics.
For the left and the right, major multinational companies are held up as the ultimate expressions of free-market capitalism. Their …
An amazing book that I will need to track down a physical copy of so that I can go back to seek wisdom from it's pages. It's voice feels familiar yet it challenges the reader to see and interrogate their ties to place that we bring to our work. It explains a framework of research that foregrounds maintaining good relations and argues for the values of local and ungeneralizeable knowledge in anti-colonial scientific work. How that might apply to the readers context is a challenge left to the reader but I'm left feeling supporting in engaging with that work and I know the door to reflect on these ideas is always open between the covers.
This globe-spanning tale of espionage explores the adventures of a journalist investigating the mystery of a commercial flight where everyone …
Content warning Given how many twists there are perhaps this is minor but nevertheless you have been warned
I both love and hate the art style. It's expressive and dreamy, but sometimes hard to parse. The powers are very interesting but I don't know if I get a lot of lasting understanding about characters save for Henry and Meru. The story ends with a funny sort of (forced) moral about the importance of dyads... which I'm not sure I am convinced of. Found out about this via SU&SD's review of the board game and maybe I'll like that game better?
It's a strange emotion to feel sadness for the mistakes of a "mad" scientist, and yet this is what the trilogy has left with me. The loss of life caused by a specific analysis of the world left to ferment in the special privacy of a hyper-capitalist surveillance state is a tragedy that seems as real as today's mass shootings in a world where genomes are just blueprints for corporate profit-making. And yet there is hope in this story, and it is borne of fighting for survival in solidarity with the other creatures of earth. I can clearly see the influence this had on Borne, but I think this one might do a better job making the parallels to our world more explicit.
Content warning Minor spoilers
I love that we get to hear other perspectives regarding some of the events of the first book. I thought that the Oryx & Crake seemed bare of characters (also because Crake and Jimmy are kinda forgettable to me; as well as life in the compounds is quite sterile), but Ren and Toby lead much more interesting lives in the world. I felt like I was being titillated by the drama of the pleeblands like a jaded compound tourist trying to feel alive. The recycling/reuse practices of the God's Gardeners really resonated with me as I try to navigate my current situation in this world. I hope to absorb the wisdom of the serpent and align my actions with the signals from our earth as we struggle to forge a future life for myself and those I love [preferably without the need for a waterless flood]
In this reread (kicking off my goal to read the trilogy) I was struck but the way in which materials were discussed. The danger of glass when one has no shoes, how an ointment had the thickness of mud, and of course the description of the flesh of a Nubbin.