To Kill a Mockingbird, of course.
I’m reading The Garden of Departed Cats by Bilge Karasu. It’s a collection of very strange and seemingly unrelated short stories, interspersed with chapters about a traveler in a Mediterranean city who ends up taking part in a human chess game. The publisher’s description says, “With many strata to mine, The Garden of the Departed Cats is a work of peculiar beauty and strangeness, the whole layered and shiny like a piece of mica.” If you like Kafka, or Italo Calvino, this might be up your alley. Me, I’m not too sure yet.
I’m also listening to the audiobook of The Sentence by Louise Erdrich. It’s told from the point of view of Tookie, an ex con who works at a bookstore in Minnesota owned by an author named Louise. Tookie is now married to the tribal cop who arrested her, she has a fraught relationship with her step daughter and with the ghost of a former bookstore customer who died while reading a book that is now in Tookie’s possession that she thinks may be cursed. It takes place in 2020, and COVID-19 has just struck. I love Louise Erdrich, and this is much more engaging than the Karasu.
For SF, I recommend anything by Becky Chambers. The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet is the first of her Wayfarers series.
I actually split between reading and listening to the audiobook. It was long either way! I didn’t care for it as much as I thought I would. The first part took me a while to get into, I loved the second part, but after
spoiler
Maidenhair dies
In very roughly descending order:
Auē by Becky Manawatu
Lighthousekeeping by Jeanette Winterson
Open Throat by Henry Hoke
Autumn by Ali Smith
A Tale for the Time Being by Ruth Ozeki
Home by Toni Morrison
Gnomon by Nick Harkaway
Space Opera by Catherynne M. Valente
The Book of M by Peng Shepherd
The Book of Strange New Things by Michel Faber
The Overstory by Richard Powers
The Door by Magda Szabó
Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin
We have one. The cat likes it, and we love it. Super-easy to empty.
Central Illinoisan here, and I’m pretty sure the half of Illinois south of the Mason-Dixon Line is the South, not the Midwest.
I hadn’t thought about it, but it sounds like a fun idea, so I’ve checked out The King in Yellow by Robert W. Chambers, a horror classic that’s been on my to-read list for a while: “a collection of spine-tingling horror stories that are woven together by a fictional play called The King in Yellow.”
Cosmos by Carl Sagan. A little dated, but a classic. Sagan’s enthusiasm for his subject is inspirational.
Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer. Part memoir, part reflections on how to repair humanity’s relationship with the natural world. The author is a botanist and a Potawatomi, and brings both perspectives to her work.
The Anthropocene Reviewed: Essays on a Human-Centered Planet by John Green. Thoughtful, heartfelt observations of humanity and its effects on the planet and the other beings that live on it, from a kind, decent, engaged, and nevertheless hopeful person.
The Soul of an Octopus: A Surprising Exploration Into the Wonder of Consciousness by Sy Montgomery. Really more personal reflections on octopuses the author has known and loved than an objective look at consciousness, but the tales are very moving.
American here, and I’ve never heard anyone seriously answer the phone this way. I did have a co-worker who would answer “Go for Mike” as a joke when he knew the caller. I had the impression it was from silly comedy or sit-com or meme that went around for a while.
I didn’t loathe it, but I didn’t much care for it. It’s basically a polemic about the history and effects (racism, poverty, income inequity, classism) of colonialism and capitalism. Not that that would make a bad novel per se, but I was expecting something more fantastical. The promise of linguistic magic was a big draw for me, but I felt this book could have been written, and maybe should have been written, as straight-up historical fiction, instead of promising fantasy that it pretty much failed to deliver.