i'm not sure if this is better than putting all my read books into a big excel file yet. but we shall see.
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Set mostly in Manhattan—although also featuring Atlantic City, Brooklyn, GMail Chat, and Gainsville, Florida—this autobiographical novella, spanning two years in …
Traduttore, traditore: An act of translation is always an act of betrayal.
1828. Robin Swift, …
Content warning i non-specifically reference the ending
it took me a lot of run-ups to get this finished, but I loved it. bleak, but ultimately beautiful. one of the most elegant magic systems I've ever read, and it ties into the thesis brilliantly.
(the pessimist in me thinks revolutionary suicide doesn't galvanize the public nearly as much as it should, but I suppose they took out a lot of support structures when they went, so maybe it would work in this universe.)
It's 1988. The CD has arrived. Sales of the shiny new disks are soaring on …
my mom gave this to me to read, which i did out of obligation. it's not terrible. not good, but not terrible.
frankly i was just happy to get through it so i could give it back to her and get it off my "to read" pile.
this was my first real foray into classical roman literature, read along with the pharsalia book club on discord. while i may have been a bit shaky on the historical background, i found myself of solid footing with all the blood and guts and violence and ghosts and snakes. that stuff is as cool today as it was 2000 years ago.
minus one star because lucan didn't even finish the book. what, did you die or something, pussy?
read for barn sour book club in august. not a thing i normally would have picked up for myself, but a quick read nonetheless. there's something here about separation and alienation -- person from homeland, reason from emotion, and ultimately body from self. but understanding that something exists in the text isn't the same as "getting it," per se.