Flaws of characters a main focus? It's complicated
3.75
Mostly I really enjoyed this. I'd struggle to call it a novel to be honest. The first third was a series of character portraits/introductions/short stories which were probably my favourite bit. They were pretty much all engaging, well-written and tugged on your heart strings. Excellent for dipping in and out of on the tube, BBC Proms queues, BBC Proms intervals, etc. I don't read a lot of short stories as a general rule but I felt like I could have read a whole book of those alone. All featured trees, some quite overtly and others as a more subtle background factor (though always important).
The rest of the book is a continuation of those stories as the characters' lives begin to overlap and intertwine, converging around the theme of tree/forest conservation and eco protest. All the different characters' viewpoints gave a massive opportunity to show the breadth of roles that trees can play in people's lives and the ways they can learn to understand and appreciate them. I particularly enjoyed Patricia's and Adam's stories. Adam approaching tree huggers for his psychology thesis to understand how they're deluding themselves so fervently and ending up joining them was really making the point that the people not out protesting are the delusional ones, although honestly I felt like I could have done with being hit over the head with that conclusion a bit more blatantly. And I won't spoil it but I thought the ending of Patricia's story was perfect and I did not see it coming. I also appreciated Doug's realisation that what he'd thought was helping the trees could actually be making the situation worse - very common experience for anyone attempting to do some good in our super complex globalised capitalist society. The fact that the characters' stories didn't all end up merging properly was what made it feel not really like a novel to me, but not necessarily an issue - just a different reading experience.
Now for some things I didn't like. First of all, the supernatural stuff. I'm aware that this is partly a me problem - can cope with fantasy set in a fantasy world with whatever kind of magical powers you want but magical realism I usually absolutely hate. But in this instance I genuinely think it was an issue with the book beyond just my distaste for that type of thing. For a book that was otherwise filled with the amazing biology of trees and generally succeeded in instilling awe based only on actual scientific facts, to have a character being spoken to by trees just felt silly, unnecessary and like it undermined everything else. Also the fact that she was clearly supposed to be the imaginary child of Ray and Dorothy was just bizarre. The truth is powerful enough to stand alone; why muddy it with all that mystical crap? The other issue I had was the sexism. I'm only exaggerating a little bit when I say all the female characters apart from Patricia seemed to exist mainly for the interesting male characters to lust after or fall madly in love with, and didn't really have much personality of their own. Even Adam's PhD supervisor barely featured apart from him wondering if she'd fuck him. Didn't really notice it while I was reading it but reflecting afterwards it's an issue that definitely stands out to me.
But despite all that, I think I'd still recommend this, especially if you like trees!
Very interesting and witty in places. In particular, some of the passages immediately after Orlando becomes a woman are really funny. And it was interesting that she seemed to assimilate into womanhood relatively quickly but class seemed more deeply ingrained and difficult to shake. But I couldn't relate to Orlando at all - the bizarre fits of passion and kind of random spontaneity. I don't believe I've ever met anyone like that so it was hard to feel like they were an actual person. And that ending, bloody hell, it was all like some giant fever dream. I had no idea what was going on any more and frankly lost the will to care. So whilst it was intellectually interesting in a lot of ways and sometimes funny, I felt completely disengaged whilst reading it so it really dragged and took me a long time to get through.
Not quite sure what to make of this and can't think of much to say. It didn't feel much like a story in a conventional sense - just recounting Elena's childhood in Naples and her friendship with Lila. I did get quite engrossed in all the characters and the details of their lives, but I wouldn't say I was gripped per se. I don't feel particularly inclined to read the next one! I was a bit taken aback by what the title ended up referring to, which I'm sure is what was intended
Pretty good. Gripping story that took some twists and turns to keep me hooked right to the end. Some solid creepiness and suspense - slightly regretted reading this at night when I was alone. Nice worldbuilding and belief system construction.
I found the gender and sexuality framework a bit confusing but I liked the idea of it - that a different society would have set up different ways of thinking about these things and terminology that reflected their belief system. But it did that classic thing of making all the characters confused and ashamed and then suddenly claiming that all these things were completely accepted and normalised, as if those feelings have nothing to do with existing in a prejudiced oppressive society.
For some reason I was really rooting for Jidras to be redeemed. Something about the way his character was built up made me feel like there was some hidden extra depth to his story that was going to be uncovered, but there never was. Bit unsatisfying because I thought there was more to be unpacked there.
This was very good. It was a bit rough around the edges but covered so much ground and had so many interesting things to say that I feel like I'll need to reread it. I had loads of tabs on the pages and scribbled notes (in pencil!) all over it. Having come across comphet already, compulsory sexuality seemed like a really obvious next step that I hadn't really thought about. An interesting lens through which to view the world. I particularly liked the bit about chrononormativity, partly because I just enjoy the word chrononormativity but also because it's just an important point. Fascinating discussion about construction of blackness in contrast to whiteness and the simultaneous desexualisation and hypersexualisation of black women especially. For me though I think actually some of the most interesting parts were about gender and how strongly it is influenced by compulsory sexuality.
This was pretty good. Obviously I'm already a convert and my work is mainly focused on agriculture in a climate transition so I'm er fairly well-versed in the arguments for veganism, meaning (a) bits of this were a tad boring for me, and (b) it's difficult for me to judge how persuasive this would be to a non-vegan person.
That said, it was well-written and none of it was boring enough for me to switch off. I found the descriptions of the gruesomeness of animal agriculture slightly less viscerally disturbing than in Safran Foer's Eating Animals, but whether you think that's a pro or a con depends on your perspective. The part I found most interesting and compelling was actually the section about zoonotic diseases - well-structured history of them and their relationship to animal agriculture, as well as a thoughtful argument about the moral implications of continuing to eat animals (especially chickens) given the enormous risks. Really helped to structure my own thoughts about this.
A bizarre and impressive book. It's fairly compact but manages to immerse you completely in the marine world and societal structures of multiple different species. My marine biology knowledge is minimal so I have no idea how well they reflect reality but it felt comprehensive and compelling. All the characters felt so real and individual. Somehow, through dolphins and whales and fish, the author managed to incorporate all sorts of interesting perspectives on gender and power dynamics and disability and race and parenthood and consent and displacement and coexisting with cultural differences. And of course, fundamentally it's a book that gives voice to the voiceless and mostly unseen victims of the destruction we're wreaking on marine ecosystems. As I said, impressive book.
This wasn't brilliant tbh. Not sure how much of it was because I'm not really the intended audience. It was quite fun, plot-heavy and easy to read, and this was enough to keep me gripped but only just. There was no depth of characterisation at all so I didn't feel invested in the characters' lives. Lam, Kay and Val all just got lumped into a "side characters with 3-letter names" box in my head and I'm honestly not really sure which was which. The perspective kept shifting between Ari and Merlin but there was no difference in narrative voice so I barely noticed - might as well have just had an omniscient narrator. The ending with a weird quest into the past to find a chalice was just jarring, unsatisfying and irritating. If you want people to read a sequel, write a book that's good enough to leave them wanting more; inventing a rubbish cliffhanger at the end is just cheap.
I loved this. I think more than anything else it was about the wonderfully melancholic and nostalgic atmosphere Mandel creates, which is just gorgeous. This was an example of a book that succeeds in jumping about both in time and from character to character without it being confusing, which is very impressive. Partly I think that's because it's not really about the plot. In fact, I'm not sure I could tell you what the plot was; what keeps you gripped is slowly uncovering who the characters really are and how their pre-apocalypse and post-apocalypse lives are intertwined. One thing I did wonder about was the significance of Arthur dying of a heart attack rather than of the virus. It felt like an important distinction but I couldn't come up with any interesting interpretation of it.
I adored the Travelling Symphony - the idea that when the world has ended a group of artists would dedicate their lives to bringing Beethoven and Shakespeare to the tiny isolated pockets of survivors. It seemed to be speaking to a wider point about the arts being a necessity and, if anything, more important in times of hardship, rather than frivolous extras when the going is good. The same applies to the comics, and the tattoos, and the cult, and the museum - all the things that the characters turn to to cope with the enormous losses they've suffered, both of people and the world they knew.
I feel kind of haunted by this book, to be honest. I suspect I'll be thinking about it for a while. Of course it felt eerily prescient and close the bone, as a pre-covid book about a pandemic. I did have a few doubts about how realistic it was - it seemed to me that the insanely high mortality rate and short incubation period of the virus would make it nowhere near as effective at spreading as it was. I guess I also have a bit more faith in humanity than Mandel does because it's insane to me that it would take so long to get some electricity going.
Wow I've been procrastinating from writing this review, which is not a problem I normally have so not sure what that says about the book...
An interesting story about Cyprus, with lots to say about civilian violence during war and inherited trauma. Half from the perspective of a fig tree with a delightful narrative voice - I had to stop reading a few chapters in to go and buy myself some figs. Some really lovely, well-developed characters and some mysteries to keep you hanging. I enjoyed Ada's screaming - very relatable. Author very keen on the word "firmament"! There were a few places where the writing felt a bit unpolished/immature but on the whole it was very well-written.