Category Archives: lists

Booklist 2016 — the year of translation

This year my reading project was for the majority of the books I read to be translated from a language other than English.  Here’s the list:

  • 31 Dec 2016:  Troubling Love, by Elena Ferrante (Ann Goldstein, trans.)
  • 27 Dec 2016:  The Civil Servant’s Notebook, by Wang Xiaofang (Eric Abrahamsen, trans.)
  • 16 Dec 2016:  Nirmala, by Premchand (David Rubin, trans.)
  • 16 Dec 2016:  A Long Walk to Water, by Linda Sue Park
  • 1 Dec 2016:  Nabokov’s Favorite Word is Mauve, by Ben Blatt
  • 24 Nov 2016: HHhH, by Laurent Binet (Sam Taylor, trans.)
  • 21 Nov 2016:  Secondhand Time, by Svetlana Alexievich (Bela Shayevich, trans.)
  • 20 Nov 2016:  Twenty-Four Hours in the Life of a Woman, by Stefan Zweig (Anthea Bell, trans.)
  • 6 Nov 2016:  Houseboy, by Ferdinand Oyono (John Reed, trans.)
  • 3 Nov 2016:  The Good Life Elsewhere, by Vladimir Lorchenkov (Ross Ufberg, trans.)
  • 12 Oct 2016:  Tales of the Hasidim:  The Early Masters, by Martin Buber (Olga Marx, trans.)
  • 1 Oct 2016:  Hit Makers, by Derek Thompson
  • 25 Sep 2016:  The Fireman, by Joe Hill
  • 19 Sep 2016:  Ghosts, by Raina Telgemeier
  • 3 Sep 2016:  The Queue, by Basma Abdel Aziz (Elizabeth Jaquette, trans.)
  • 11 Aug 2016:  City of Mirrors, by Justin Cronin
  • 26 Jul 2016:  Why I Killed My Best Friend, by Amanda Michalopoulou (Karen Emmerich, trans.)
  • 19 Jul 2016:  1Q84, by Haruki Murakami (Philip Gabriel and Jay Rubin, trans.)
  • 10 Jul 2016:  The Story of My Teeth, by Valeria Luiselli (Christina MacSweeney, trans.)
  • 1 Jul 2016:  So You Don’t Get Lost In The Neighborhood, by Patrick Modiano (Euan Cameron, trans.)
  • 13 May 2016:  Weapons of Math Destruction, by Cathy O’Neil
  • 2 May 2016:  Sh*tty Mom for All Seasons, by Erin Clune
  • 20 Apr 2016:  There’s Nothing I Can Do When I Think of You Late at Night, by Cao Naiqian (John Balcom, trans.)
  • 1 Apr 2016:  The Story of the Lost Child, by Elena Ferrante (Ann Goldstein, trans.)
  • 25 Feb 2016:  Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay, by Elena Ferrante (Ann Goldstein, trans.)
  • 10 Feb 2016:  Voices from Chernobyl, by Svetlana Alexievich (Keith Gessen, trans.)
  • 1 Feb 2016:  The Story of a New Name, by Elena Ferrante (Ann Goldstein, trans.)
  • 9 Jan 2016:  Amy and Laura, by Marilyn Sachs
  • 7 Jan 2016:  My Brilliant Friend, by Elena Ferrante (Ann Goldstein, trans.)

Note that I’m behind on these posts:  I covered the 2013 booklist about a year ago,  but still have to do 2015 (the year of reading mostly women) and 2014.  I’ll get to it.

20 translated books, 9 books in English.  One thing to note is that I read few books this year; I think reading in translation is just a little slower for me.

The languages:

  • 5 Italian (all Ferrante)
  • 3 French (two from France, one from Cameroon)
  • 3 Russian (but no Russian authors!  Lorchenkov is Moldovan, Alexievich is Belarussian.)
  • 2 Chinese
  • 2 German
  • 1 Japanese, 1 Arabic, 1 Greek, 1 Hindi, 1 Spanish.

Overall thoughts:  My plan, I guess, was to expand my horizons.  Did I?  I’m not sure I found these books to be as different from my usual reading as I expected.  Maybe because when American and British writers translate foreign books they somehow press them into the mold of the American and British novel I’m so at ease with?  Or because the novel is fundamentally a cosmopolitan form that works roughly the same way in different national traditions?

The one exception was There’s Nothing I Can Do When I Think of You Late at Night, a kind of Chinese Winesburg,Ohio:  very short, linked stories all set in a remote and desperately impoverished village.  It’s sort of incantatory, phrases repeated several times, in a way that really feels alien to the prose fiction tradition I know.  Niqian wasn’t trained as a writer; apparently he was a detective who started writing as a bet.  Here’s a review with some excerpts.

Best of the year:  No way to choose between Ferrante and Alexievich.  They are too different.  Also the same, of course, in that they always come back to women and the men from whom they expect little and get even less.  And the men from whom they expect something bad and get something even worse.

The books are oral history, interviews collected and transcribed into something like an epic.  Here’s a young woman in Belarus, released from prison after being arrested in a demonstration, telling her story in Secondhand Time:

Do I still like the village?  People here live the same way year in and year out.  They dig for potatoes in their vegetable patches, crawl around on their knees.  Make moonshine.  You won’t find a sngle sober man after dark, they all drink every single day.  They vote for Lukashenko and mourn the Soviet Union.  The undefeatable Soviet Army.  On the bus, one of our neighbors sat down next to me.  He was drunk.  He talked about politics:  “I would beat every moron democrat’s face in myself if I could.  They let you off easy.  I swear to God!  All of them ought to be shot.  America is behind all this, they’re paying for it … Hillary Clinton … but we’re a strong people.  We lived through perestroika, and we’ll make it through another revolution.  One wise man told me that the kikes are the ones behind it.”  The whole bus supported him.  “Things wouldn’t be any worse than they are now.  All you see on TV is bombings and shootings everywhere.”

The same woman, on her time in jail:

I learned that happiness can come from something as small as a bit of sugar or a piece of soap.  In a cell intended for five people — thirty-two square meters — there were seventeen of us.  You had to learn how to fit your entire life into two square meters.  It was especially hard at night, there was no air to breathe, it was stifling.  We wouldn’t get to sleep for a long time.  We stayed up talking.  The first few days, we discussed politics, but after that, we only ever talked about love.

Other Notes:  1Q84 was my first Murakami.  A fascinating example of a book that in many ways I view as  objectively poorly written but which I found captivating, even though it was 1000 pages long.  So maybe this, like Cao, is another book doing something with prose which I’m not used to and which I can’t completely understand.  Twenty-Four Hours in the Life of a Woman was compelling melodrama.  Tales of the Hasidim helped me remember that my idea of what “Jewish culture” means (intellectual, verbal, rule-governed, repressed)  is only one small part of our tradition, and not necessarily the biggest one.  The Lorchenkov was blackly funny.  The Aziz and the Michalopoulou were dull, though this could have been the translator’s fault.  The Civil Servant’s Notebook is a multivocal roman a clef (really multivocal; some of the chapters are narrated by desk furniture) about municipal corruption in China; it was apparently a huge bestseller there and has touched off an entire popular genre of “officialdom literature.”  Maybe we should have that here!

Worst of the year:  Easy, City of Mirrors.  I just dumped a huge ball of words on this terrible book so I went ahead and broke it out as a separate post so as not to dominate my nice year of translations.

 

Tagged , , ,

Booklist 2013

This is not a typo — I was going to post about the books I read in 2015 but realized I’ve fallen out of the habit, and haven’t actually done a roundup since 2012! Here are the books of 2013:

 

  • 31 Dec 2013:  The Yacoubian Building, Alaa Al Aswany.
  • 17 Dec 2013: The Custom of the Country, Edith Wharton.
  • 29 Nov 2013:  Infinitesimal, Amir Alexander.
  • 19 Nov 2013:  The Simpsons and Their Mathematical Secrets, Simon Singh.
  • 2 Nov 2013:  The Panic Virus, Seth Mnookin.
  • 29 Oct 2013:  Taipei, Tao Lin.
  • 22 Oct 2013:  The Twelve, Justin Cronin.
  • 7 Oct 2013:  Fads and Fallacies in the Name of Science, Martin Gardner.
  • 15 Sep 2013:  The More You Ignore Me, Travis Nichols.
  • 11 Sep 2013:  Undiluted Hocus-Pocus:  The Autobiography of Martin Gardner.
  • 1 Sep 2013:  JoylandStephen King.
  • 27 Aug 2013:  The Ninjas, Jane Yeh.
  • 20 Aug 2013:  Time of the Great Freeze, Robert Silverberg.
  • 11 Aug 2013:  The Buddha in the Attic, Julie Otsuka.
  • 29 Jul 2013:  Lexicon, Max Barry.
  • 20 Jul 2013: Forty-One False Starts, Janet Malcolm.
  • 12 Jul 2013: Thinking in Numbers, Daniel Tammet.
  • 10 Jul 2013:  Boundaries, T.M. Wright.
  • 26 Jun 2013:  Let’s Talk About Love:  A Journey to the End of Taste, by Carl Wilson.
  • 15 Jun 2013:  Goslings, J.D. Beresford.
  • 1 Jun 2013:  You, Austin Grossman.
  • 25 May 2013:  The Night Land, William Hope Hodgson.
  • 10 May 2013:  20th Anniversary Report of the Harvard-Radcliffe Class of 1993
  • 5 May 2013:  The Vanishers, Heidi Julavits.
  • 17 Apr 2013:  Belmont, Stephen Burt.
  • 10 Apr 2013:  Among Others, Jo Walton.
  • 2 Apr 2013:  Math on Trial, by Leila Schneps and Coralie Colmez
  • 25 Mar 2013:  The Fun Parts, Sam Lipsyte.
  • 14 Mar 2013:  Mathematical Apocrypha, Steven Krantz.
  • 7 Mar 2013:  The Magic Circle, Jenny Davidson.
  • 2 Mar 2013: SnowAdam Roberts.
  • 24 Feb 2013:  A Hologram for the King, Dave Eggers.
  • 9 Feb 2013:  The Wind Through the Keyhole, Stephen King.
  • 8 Feb 2013:  The Life and Opinions of a College Class, the Harvard Class of 1926.
  • 15 Jan 2013:  When the Tripods Came, John Christopher.

 

34 books.  21 fiction, 11 non-fiction, 2 books of poetry (note to self:  at some point read a book of poems by a poet I don’t personally know.)  Of the novels, 8 were SF/fantasy.

Best of the year:  Impossible to choose between The Custom of the Country and Forty-One False Starts.  

Wharton often writes about the drive to acquire money and status, which she presents not as a means to meet other basic human needs (food, security, companionship) but as a basic need in itself, and pretty near the base of the pyramid.  Sometimes the particular situation is a little dated (as in the concern with divorce in Age of Innocence) but Custom of the Country, which is about a New York deformed by a sudden influx of new, uncivilized wealth absorbing everything around it, couldn’t be more topical.

Janet Malcolm is of course the best essayist alive.  Forty-One False Starts is a collection of pieces, mostly from the New Yorker I think, mostly new to me.  The title track is amazing:  just as it says, it’s 41 possible openings to an essay, each one abandoned as Malcolm tries to start again.  (Or maybe as Malcolm pretends to start again; was the collage her plan all along?  That would certainly make them “false starts” in the literal sense of the words.)  The same anecdotes appear in multiple sections, from multiple points of view, or rather, from the same point of view, Malcolm’s, which always seems to be viewing from everywhere at once.  Here’s the first paragraph from false start 3 (which is just two paragraphs long):

All during my encounter with the artist David Salle—he and I met for interviews in his studio, on White Street, over a period of two years—I was acutely conscious of his money. Even when I got to know him and like him, I couldn’t dispel the disapproving, lefty, puritanical feeling that would somehow be triggered each time we met, whether it was by the sight of the assistant sitting at a sort of hair-salon receptionist’s station outside the studio door; or by the expensive furniture of a fifties corporate style in the upstairs loft, where he lives; or by the mineral water he would bring out during our talks and pour into white paper cups, which promptly lost their takeout-counter humbleness and assumed the hauteur of the objects in the Design Collection of the Museum of Modern Art.

“assumed the hauteur”  I love.  The capitals of Design Collection and Museum of Modern Art I love.  And there’s the presence of money in New York and the anxiety it stirs into the world of for-lack-of-a-better-word “culture”, just as in Wharton.  And Wharton is in Forty-One False Starts, too, in Malcolm’s essay “The Woman Who Hated Women”.  In fact, I’m pretty sure it was that essay that spurred me to start reading Wharton again, which I’ve been doing on and off ever since.  Malcolm writes:

There are no bad men in Wharton’s fiction. There are weak men and there are foolish men and there are vulgar New Rich men, but no man ever deliberately causes harm to another person; that role is exclusively reserved for women.

As for The Custom of the Country:

With Undine Spragg, the antiheroine of ”The Custom of the Country” (1913), Wharton takes her cold dislike of women to a height of venomousness previously unknown in American letters, and probably never surpassed. Undine’s face is lovely, but her soul is as dingy as Gerty Farish’s flat. Ralph Marvell, one of her unfortunate husbands, reflects on “the bareness of the small half-lit place in which his wife’s spirit fluttered.”

I hate to disagree with Janet Malcolm.  But I disagree!  Back in 2013 I had a very well-worked out theory of this book, in which Undine Spragg was not particularly a villain, but rather the character who was best able to adapt to the new customs and the new country.  The men are weak, as Malcolm says, but indulgence of weakness can be a way of deliberately causing harm.  For every one of Undine’s “can’t believe she did/said that” moments in the book, there’s an analogous crime committed by one of the other characters, but expressed with more gentility.  Anyway, I’ve forgotten all my examples.  But it was a good theory, I promise!  I will admit that, having now read Ethan Frome, I can’t deny that there’s some extent to which Wharton experiences femaleness as a kind of horror.  But I don’t think that’s what’s going on with Undine Spragg.  (I also disagree with Roxane Gay about May Welland, who I totally think is meant by Wharton to be sympathizable-with but not likable compared with Countess Oleska, whose side I think Age of Innocence 100% takes, if it takes anyone’s.  Maybe more on this in the 2015 post.)

Others I should have blogged about:  I read Taipei because I was curious about Tao Lin, who some people think is a prankster masquerading as a fiction writer and other people think is really a fiction writer.  It’s the latter.  I mean, look at this map:

339382_10151905688102481_1749687214_o

He’s clearly somebody who sees himself in the tradition of experimental English-language fiction (Grace Paley!  Barthelme!  Stephen Dixon!  James freaking Purdy!) and I thought Taipei reflected that.  It was way more Barthelme than it was weird Twitter.  I had a good worked-out theory for this one, too, which I also forgot to blog.  Negative space:  it was a novel about a poet who is never seen writing or reading or performing poetry; i.e. a novel which places the experience of not-producing-poetry at the center of the poetic project.  Also there was something about the emphasis on Apple products and the relationship with China, where they’re produced — i.e. the novel is intently focused on use of Apple products while hiding the production of Apple projects, just as it’s intently focused on poetry while hiding the production of poetry.  But I was more into this interpretation before the novel actually goes to Taipei.  (And yes I know Taipei is not in the PRC; I felt willing to fudge the geography.)

Fads and Fallacies in the Name of Science:  from 1956, but, like Custom of the Country, almost painfully topical.  People don’t believe in orgone therapy anymore but the anti-scientific style in American culture is as healthy as ever.  Let’s Talk About Love:  the best book in existence about the problem of the “guilty pleasure,” or of art being “so bad it’s good,” or the basic difficulty of criticism of living culture:  is the critic’s job to tell you what to like and why to like it, or to understand why the people who like it like it?   (“Neither” is an OK answer here but let’s face it, these are the two leading candidates, unless “dispassionately analyze the class position of the work and the material circumstances of its production” still counts.)

August 2015 linkdump

  • There’s a new biography of Grothendieck, this one in French.  Any chance it’ll be translated?
  • Let felons vote and let them carry guns — the ultimate left-right compromise reform?  Why not?  Everybody believes there’s some core of constitutional rights an American doesn’t give up, no matter what they do.  Felon or no felon, you have the right to free speech and the right to a trial by jury.  I think voting belongs in that inner circle.  I don’t really feel that way about gun ownership, but I get that a lot of people do.  And — purely as a practical matter — the typical felon who’s served his time is surely more correct in feeling he needs a firearm to protect himself than, say, I do.
  • “Pinch my cheeks and call me gorgeous — it’s Raven!”  This panel has been floating in my memory for about thirty years.  CJ really likes the Teen Titans show that’s on Cartoon Network now, and watching him watching it inspired me to see if I could actually find an image.  Thanks, tumblr.
  • Indietracks Compilation 2015.  As always, a great collection of songs.
  • At some point I will try to find time to think more seriously about the claim by Josh Miller and Adam Sarjurjo that the famous Gilovich-Vallone-Tversky study finding no evidence for the hot hand in basketball actually found strong evidence for the hot hand in basketball.  The whole thing comes down to screwy endpoint problems when you average results of a bunch of short trials.  It has some relation to the perils of averaging ratios.
  • Pretty sure this cartoon calculus book is the very one that was sitting on the shelf in Mrs. Levin’s 6th grade classroom, which I became absolutely obsessed with.
  •  Do you think the most Shazammed songs are the most popular songs, or songs that best combine popularity with being a song no one knows the name of?  I like that you can see the country-by-country charts:  here’s Thailand, where they love Meghan Trainor, or don’t know her name.
  • Good-looking conference at the Newton Institute about large graphs.
Tagged , , , , , ,

HNTBW paperback publicity roundup

Gonna put all this stuff in one post:

I was at the Aspen Ideas Festival last week, talking about various aspects of outward-facing math.  We taped an episode of Science Friday with Jo Boaler and Steve Strogatz, mostly about K-12 teaching, but I did get to drop Russell’s paradox on the audience.  I also did a discussion with David Leonhardt, editor of the New York Times Upshot section, about the future of quantitative journalism, and sat on a big panel that debated the question:  “Is Math Important?”

The big news from England was that Waterstone’s chose HNTBW as their nonfiction book of the month for June.  That was a big factor in the book riding the Times bestseller list for a month (it’s the #5 nonfiction paperback as I write this.) I went to London and did some events, like this talk at the Royal Institution.  I also got to meet Matt Parker, “the stand-up mathematician,” and record a spirited discussion of whether 0.9999… = 1 (extra director’s cut footage here.) And I wrote a piece for the Waterstone’s blog about the notorious “Hannah and her sweets problem.” from this year’s GCSE.

I was on Bloomberg News, very briefly, to talk about my love for dot plot charts and to tell a couple of stories from the book.  (Rare chance to see me in a blazer.) On the same trip to New York, I sat in on the Slate Money podcast.  I also wrote a couple of op-eds, some already linked here:  In the New York Times, I wrote about states replacing Common Core math standards with renamed versions of the same thing, and in the Wall Street Journal, I talked about the need for a new kind of fact-checking for data journalism, where truth is not enough.

The book just came out in Brazil this month; good luck for me, I was already invited to a conference at IMPA, so while I was there I gave a talk at Casa do Saber in Rio, talking through a translator like I was at the UN.

I think that’s about it!

 

Tagged

Names and words

When you get the copy-edited manuscript of a book back, it comes with a document called “Names and Words,” this is a list of proper names or unusual words in the book which might admit variant spelling or typography, and the list is there to keep everybody on the production team uniform.

Here’s the A-B section of my list.  I think it gives a pretty good sense of what the book is about.

Niels Henrik Abel

Mahmoud Ahmadinejad

Aish HaTorah

Alcmaeon of Croton

Alhazen (Abu ‘Ali al-Hasan ibn al-Haytham)

Spike Albrecht

Ray Allen

Scott Allen

Akhil and Vikram Amar

Apollonius of Perga

Yasser Arafat

John Arbuthnot

Dan Ariely

Kenneth Arrow

John Ashbery

Daryl Renard Atkins

Yigal Attali

David Bakan

Stefan Banach

Dror Bar-Natan

Joseph-Émile Barbier

Leroy E. Burney

Andrew Beal

Nicholas Beaudrot

Bernd Beber

Gary Becker

Madeleine Beekman

Armando Benitez

Craig Bennett

Jim Bennett

George Berkeley

Joseph Berkson

Daniel Bernoulli

Jakob Bernoulli

Nicholas Bernoulli

Alphonse Bertillon

Bertillonage

Joseph Bertrand

best seller

best-selling

R. H. Bing

Otto Blumenthal

Usain Bolt

Farkas Bolyai

János Bolyai

Jean-Charles de Borda

Bose-Chaudhuri-Hocquenghem code

Nick Bostrom

David Brooks

Derren Brown

Filippo Brunelleschi

Pat Buchanan

Georges-Louis LeClerc, Comte de Buffon

Dylan Byers

Daniel Byman

David Byrne

 

Tagged ,

Words that appear exactly 25 times in How Not To Be Wrong

15,18,20, along, Baltimore, calculus, check, completely, drawing, early, economic, else, extra, feel, geometric, holes, John, known, lead, nature, obvious, outcome, particular, pay, precise, principle, share, sphere, student, thus, wanted.

Sounds good, right?

Tagged

September linkdump

Tagged

The American universities that sent representatives to the 1900 ICM in Paris

  • Bryn Mawr
  • California
  • Chicago
  • Clark
  • “Dakota”
  • Northwestern
  • Georgetown
  • Haverford
  • Lehigh
  • Princeton
  • Stanford
  • Texas

Interesting list!

 

Tagged ,

Booklist 2012

Here are the books I read in 2012.

  • 11 Nov 2012:  The Passage, by Justin Cronin.
  • 31 Oct 2012:  Too Good To Be True, Benjamin Anastas.
  • 22 Oct 2012:  vN, Madeline Ashby.
  • 13 Oct 2012:  Although Of Course You End Up Becoming Yourself, David Lipsky.
  • 6 Oct 2012:  11/22/63, Stephen King.
  • 15 Sep 2012:  The Signal and the NoiseNate Silver.
  • 26 Aug 2012:  Mr. Smartypants, Michael Showalter.
  • 24 Aug 2012: Immobility, Brian Evenson.
  • 11 Aug 2012:  Permanent Emergency, Kip Hawley.
  • 10 Aug 2012:  Against Security, Harvey Molotch.
  • 6 Aug 2012:  Liars and Outliers, Bruce Schneier.
  • 25 Jul 2012:  The Man in the Maze, Robert Silverberg.
  • 14 Jul 2012:  The Pale King, David Foster Wallace.
  • 5 Jun 2012:  The Red Book, Deborah Copaken Kogan.
  • 20 May 2012:  The Outsourced Self, Arlie Russell Hochschild.
  • 13 May 2012:  Laughing Man, T.M. Wright.
  • 11 May 2012:  Strange Seed, T. M. Wright.
  • 6 May 2012:  The Scarlet Plague, Jack London.
  • 2 May 2012:  The Nephew, James Purdy.
  • 24 Apr 2012:  Life Would Be Perfect If I Lived In That House, Meghan Daum.
  • 1 Apr 2012:  The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins.
  • 26 Mar 2012: 1001, Jason Grote.
  • 13 Mar 2012: The Chicagoan 1.
  • 3 Feb 2012:  Simon: The Genius in my Basement, Alexander Masters.
  • 28 Jan 2012: Malcolm, James Purdy.
  • 22 Jan 2012:  In Pursuit of the Traveling Salesman, William J. Cook.
  • 18 Jan 2012:  Freedom, Jonathan Franzen.

Links go to blogposts about the linked book.

So:  27 books.  Of these, 6 were books I was reviewing.  21 pleasure books is a pretty slim total for a year’s work!   There’s a list, too, of books that I read substantial chunks of in 2012 and which I still expect to finish:  Peter Carey’s Illywhacker, Heidi Julavits’s The Vanishers, Seth Mnookin’s The Panic Virus, Nicholas Lemann’s The Big Test, Ford Madox Ford’s The Good Soldier (a re-read),… probably others I’ve forgotten.

This was the year I started occasionally reading books on a device; 5 of these were read on some combination of iPhone and iPad.  Included among these were four of the last five books I finished (along with two I haven’t finished, the Ford Madox Ford and the Julavits.)  This might mean that it’s easier to finish books on the device, or it might mean that I differentially tend to buy SF on the phone, and SF is (in general!  in general!) easy to read very quickly.

Actually, this was a very heavy SF year for me:  9 out of the 27 books, if you count expansively.  My relationship with science fiction is very strange.  I grew up reading it and think of myself as liking it.  But I have not yet found the place in contemporary SF I really like to sit.  Of the 9 SF books I read this year, the two that I really liked were the ones from the 20th century : The Scarlet Plague and The Man in the Maze.  The former is a forgotten book that Joshua Glenn wisely released in his Radium Age series, the latter a forgotten book that Johan de Jong wisely made me borrow.

Best book I read:  The Pale King, no surprise.  And it wasn’t close.  Malcolm is the runner-up.

Worst book I read:  The Passage, I think, even though on average this book was not bad.  The first 300 pages were kind of great, centered on the question:  how would it feel to watch the world be destroyed if the world were already kind of destroyed to start with?  But then after that there are 700 pages of “old West in the future” and people riding around shooting at monsters.  I felt betrayed.  This is my quarrel with contemporary SF.  So many ideas, so much promise, and then the last 500 pages are always people riding around and shooting at monsters!  Sometimes they’re running or flying instead of riding, but always the shooting, always the monsters.

Tagged , ,

I know “All About”…

photo

I know “All About…”

1.  Baseball

2.  space

3.  sisters

4.  biking

5.  books

6.  math

7.  super man

8.  words

9.  food

10.  winter

11.  mysterys

12.

This is actually pretty similar to what my list would be.

Tagged ,
%d bloggers like this: