Disappointed with this considering its Locus award & Clarke nomination. It tantalised early with the promise of a good sci-fi crossover. It‘s a story of first-contact with “alien” minds & sub plots of ecology, espionage, hacking, modern-day slavery, cyborgs & AI. Sadly, it starts off great & races to its conclusion but its middle is flabby & treads water (‘Scuse the pun). There‘s no underwater mountains in this novel: I may have missed a metaphor

https://www.readyourcolor.com/ Apparently I‘m half red and half purple. To get this, I simply don‘t read books about CEOs on a journey of self discovery or genealogy based on recipes for goulash 🤣. Truly moronic algorithm🥴. I am not a colour, I am a free reader!🏐💨

This book is absolutely bonkers. Arthurian-like quest/pilgrimage set in plague-ridden France in the Middle Ages but with the religious and supernatural themes cranked up to 100. An orphan, an excommunicated knight and a shamed priest are traveling south to Avignon to what you know will be an apocalyptic event. The horror is Lovecraftian and the humour is dark which compliments the grim and grimy setting. Top notch.

Appropriately, I read this when commuting on the underground: my Trans-London Express, if you will. I love Kraftwerk…Computer World, what an album. This is a look at the context of the band‘s beginnings as a post-war generation‘s attempt to rebuild reputation and creativity after its destruction by the Nazis and simultaneously crafting a musical/artistic identity (A Wagnerian Gesamtkunstwerk) that was distinctly not American influenced pop/rock.

My reading has taken a back seat since Christmas. Extended the kitchen and now have a spare dining room which I‘ve been decorating when not working. This will now be a reading room so it‘s all gonna work out good in the end. I picked up this, weird but interesting GN…a quick read, just so my account didn‘t look dead. Although I did try and catch up on reviews once in a while. Oh, I also joined a gym. My arms are so huge now I can barely turn pages

For me, Asimovs Robot stories sit comfortably in a unique stasis between its 1950s style, dialect & atomic age paranoia, & the speculative, future worlds in which they‘re set. It‘s kind of simultaneously antiquated & futuristic at the same time. The Foundation Trilogy doesn‘t always work the same way. It‘s more severely & noticeably trapped in its old attitudes & kind of ages badly in comparison. But the yarns are ripping & I enjoyed the journey

Colleen Hoover saved my life: As I took this book to the counter to pay, I knocked over a Hoover display, novels tumbled everywhere. As I bent to pick them up, a throwing knife whizzed past my head, thwacking into a shelf. Standing up I saw my nemesis, ex-KGB hit-man Ivan Ivanov, lining up 2nd blade. I grabbed a Hoover & dashed it at Ivanovs temple, he was stunned. “Neva judge a bork by da cuvvah” I told the demented villain as he came around.

I remember watching the film when I was younger and Werewolf films were all the rage. It was so long ago, but I seem to remember it was more ecological and thoughtful than this book which is straight up pulpy horror. I enjoyed it nonetheless.

I‘m not really a “It‘s not you, it‘s me” kinda bailer. This book was truly poor and, for me, the worst kind of writing: “She did this, then she did that. Then this happened. Then that happened”. It‘s just lists and I bailed because I just couldn‘t take anymore. Also, overly sexualised women and animal masks doesn‘t make a book instantly “folk horror”. I would build a wicker bookshelf and burn this but it‘s an e-book😬

A few years either side of 1977, for a 10 week season, BBC 2 used to broadcast a late night double-bill of horror films. Usually a Universal 1st & a Hammer horror 2nd. ‘77, arguably, had the most classic selections. This is one man‘s story of watching those films as a kid in a cultural/historical context. This book must have the skinniest demographic: Mid/late 50s, British, geeky & probably male. Sometime a bit too personal but mostly a good read.

I really enjoyed this. Yes, it‘s a bit dry and pompous sometimes (I wondered if it was actually an Asimov pastiche that wasn‘t quite in the right key) and Rod Stirling‘s film adaptation made artistic choices that are more authentically sci-fi, but, within the franchise that it‘s still spawning, it earns its prototypical credentials as an enthralling adventure that‘s a thoughtful, moving critique of vivisection with a fine example of a twist ending

They‘re certainly pushing this novel of a 1920s divorcee. It was in the thriller section in WH Smiths. However, the blurb made it sound like something else. In both seller and buyer, confusion reigns but I thought maybe it was an edgy, impossible to categorise, rediscovered curio plus I have a soft spot for women behaving badly stories so I took a punt. Sadly I can‘t get past the first 30 pages. It‘s American Psycho without the murders or irony

When I first read this novel I remember feeling short-changed at how the story of Dune had just fizzled out. I enjoyed it more now because I get what I missed as a younger man. Also, I recently read Brian Herbert‘s Paul of Dune which is set between Frank‘s first two novels. Yes, Frank is mystical, philosophical and profound while Brian and his co-writer are just straight up action/pulp sci-fi, but, for me, the combined books make a great trilogy.

In war torn Iraq, a man puts together a creature made of body parts left uncollected after suicide bombings & it goes on a killing spree. It‘s more of a horror story than Shelly‘s novel. The use of Frankenstein in the title is misleading as it‘s thematically totally different. There‘s many interesting characters here but the author doesn‘t know what ones to stay with. It also goes from YA to something very dark. Another book with a naff ending.

This was the author tonight, at the a pre-launch party, signing her book, for my wife…her cousin. So proud of Dzifa…her book of poetry is out next month and she read some of the poems and explained the story behind them. One of them was poem of the week in Monday‘s Guardian.

https://amp.theguardian.com/books/2024/oct/21/poem-of-the-week-the-hottentot-ven...

As we know, 2001 as a novel/movie was a collaboration between Clarke and Kubrick. Without being similarly handcuffed for the sequel, we get a much more exciting story. Clarke loves to write about the pioneering spirit and endeavour of the human race but he simultaneously captures the sense of wonder and how small and insignificant we are within the vastness of space and time. Clarke is the speculative Galactus of sci-fi writing. Superb book.

Im on a bad run: 2 bails in a row😩 30 pages in, I‘m wondering why the author seems to hate all of his characters. I Googled and it seems Condon liked to “rage” at politics, authority, military. This book is supposed to be satire. Fair enough. For me, it‘s a weird kind of satire, not being any colours of the “amusing” spectrum and it‘s full of obnoxious characters. It‘s verbose and dull. It spawned 2 films, which I haven‘t seen🤷🏻Bailed on p. 81

Final part of this bonkers sci-fi trilogy. A near-future Nigeria has experienced an alien invasion/colonisation, so it makes literary sense an Africa country is best prepared for the fight back while the rest of the world seems inactive. Massive dollops of deus ex machina that‘s excusable because this is fast-paced, modern pulp with plenty of characters to love and hate.

Page 41: “If, in reading this, you cannot see that Fat is writing about himself, then you understand nothing”. Well, Dick threw down the challenge & won. I‘m sure it‘s a worthy philosophical/theological exploration but I‘m just not intellectual enough to understand, sadly. Also, drugs, semi-glamorised as profound/cosmic or situated ambiguously as either the cause of, or escape from, a “madness” that‘s a stylised affectation, doesn‘t entertain me

Dunno what possessed me to pick up a 500 page book in Forbidden Planet and start reading it on the tube home-ignoring my ginormous TBRs. However, it zipped along quite nicely. It‘s a road trip/macguffin-y adventure with lots of commentary on social media. It‘s doing quite a lot, critiquing message-board crankery, on-line hate, misogyny, cancel culture & conspiracy theories via its characters. It will probably date pretty quickly but it‘s fun now.

I have no words

As an exploration of grief, this story excels. As it unfolds we get a creepy, atmospheric ghost story before a gear change into something more surreal and horrific. At first I thought I was getting one of those psychological ghost stories where we create the spirits that haunt us, à la Shirley Jackson, but when people started dying gruesome deaths I thought it was straight up horror…and then there was the ending and now I‘m not sure what I read.

Anyone else ever had a TBR on their shelf for over 45 years? This book has come with me from home to home since I won it as a prize in my local library (see inscription) and I‘d never read it until now. I wish I‘d read it sooner rather than just kept it as a memento of happier, childhood days. To me, Knights and Grails always invoked Monty Python, but these stories of kings, courage, fair maidens, enchanted castles and heroic battles was glorious

These collected essays from Sandifer‘s Doctor Who blog have each series/season of the show deconstructed with critical reflections of the social & political climate at the time of release on both a personal & wider level. This isn‘t always as dry as it sounds but I did skip a few filler essays. This volume is number 4 but the 2nd I‘ve read (I wasn‘t born during Hartnell/Troughton years so skipped those books). I watch the show as I read the essays

Just how much of Hollywood‘s output in the late 60s to early 80s was true “counter-culture” & how much of it was an affectation, a cash-in that facilitated the continuation of the studios‘ dominance? Marxist analysis of movies was all the rage 20 odd years ago but with no more than a pompous nod to intersectionality, they soon became irrelevant. Replacing the lens & looking at less obvious movies, this book has a good stab at updating discussions.

Besides the usual problem with Asimov (the only meaningful female character is still the one responsible for making tea and stew for men) the middle section is flabby and massively expositional/dialogue heavy. This is a shame because the previous book, despite its demoded aspects, is an enjoyable story. It‘s not all bad, though, but I see now why I‘ve never read past this part of the trilogy. However, I‘m aiming to fix that as soon as TBR permits

I went to the recycling centre this morning. Always worth looking in the wheelie bin of books to see if someone is throwing away a gem. I gazed into this last bin in the line…and the bin gazed also into me!

A Greatest hits? Ellison is somewhat a rock-star, the irascible, messy type, like Jonny Rotten or Axl Rose but with talent. It seems he could be a massive asshole. Appropriately, current Lord of Assholia, Neil Gaiman, did an intro (which I skipped). When Ellison hits, his work is exciting and visceral; experimental and fun. A couple of his misses are in this collection, they‘re dull and recondite. A great fathers-day gift from my daughter @she_she

As everyone‘s doing it…I had FOMO😬 . https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2024/books/best-books-21st-century.html

After reading contemporary fiction I need a few gos to get into the flow and classic style of Poe. Once I lock in, it‘s so beautifully crafted and satisfying to read. Sometimes I wish we all still spoke how Poe writes. His language is just so expertly crafted and meaningful. I read this because my local cinema showed Corman‘s adaptation a week after he passed. That film only shares a title with its source but it‘s a work of art in its own right.

This novella openly declares it‘s influenced by Borges‘, The Library of Babel (I didn‘t know it) & turns his notion of an impossibly huge library into a philosophical exploration of life, love & religion. A man dies, goes to hell and is put in a huge library with one task that guarantees freedom. Perhaps silly, it has a horror/sci-fi feel & I couldn‘t put down. As with philosophy, questions raised go unanswered, but the story ends satisfyingly tho

As a series opener, this novel isn‘t too bad. I‘m just not sure, this close to completing it, if I liked the Shardlake character enough, though. Despite the casual pacing, it is an easy enough read, but I didn‘t get enough immersion into the period from the writing alone, feeling I did a lot of the visualisation work myself. I wasn‘t wholly convinced by the whodunit denouement either. Good, but not amazing, although I sense the series grows.

There‘s a panel on page 54 which shows a contemplative Captain Haddock looking out of cell, holding onto the bars. It‘s simple enough but so perfectly captures its desired meaning that, as always, I marvel at Hergè‘s artwork. He‘s not underrated by any means, but he lounges comfortably and unquestionably at the?of the pile of the world‘s great contemporary artists. Shame the story is pedestrian compared to this adventure‘s previous instalment ?

Monk isn‘t likeable. I skipped his horrible Foucault paper- It gave me flashbacks to my degree. He had great ideas, just often impenetrable and pompous. The same with this book..it‘s so painfully post post-modern it disappears up its own arse. For the same observations but without the self conscious irony, Chris Rock‘s movie CB4 is very funny. The blurb on the back has one person gushing that the novel is “seminal”. Maybe when it was released.

Prog-rock‘s light blazed for a few years in the 70s. Ironic that its death knell tolled when the faux-anarchism & primitivism of 3-chord punk rockers like the Sex Pistols situated themselves as a push back against the (sad but sometimes true) accusation that prog was self-indulgent keyboard noodling for male dweebs. The final nail in the coffin was Spinal Tap‘s bass player getting stuck in his plastic pod. Prog‘s story is eminently readable fun!

My penultimate AI themed #tuesdaytunes. I asked for Minnie Riperton (Worst likeness of all AI pics I‘ve had generated) reading The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes; Carlos Santana reading Call of Cthulhu. I specifically asked for Genesis era Peter Gabriel reading Jane Eyre. Chick Corea reading James and the Giant Peach. Obviously Kate Bush would read Wuthering Heights and Elvis Costello doesn‘t want to go to Chelsea so reads Fever Pitch instead.

#tuesdaytunes Just how intelligent is artificial? Actually that question doesn‘t work. Here‘s this week‘s AI meets musicians meets literature. I asked for: Syd Barrett reading Alice in Wonderland; Marvin Gaye reading Spider-Man; David Axlerod reading The Bible; Patrice Rushen reading Men In Black; Bobbi Humphrey reading 2001 and Robert Fripp reading Psycho.

Bonus AI mash-up #tuesdaytune shenanigans. For my brother from another mother, @Bookwomble , I asked AI to give me David Bowie reading Maigret. 🥴

Good news pop pickers…It‘s that #tuesdaytunes mash-up series that no one asked for: Literature meets the musical greats via seven fingered AI. This week I asked for…James Brown reading 50 Shades of Grey. Bob James reading 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea (Looks like AI took that literally). Barry White reading The Joy of Sex. Wendy Carlos reading Catch 22. Flora Purim reading “Stories” and Herbie Hancock reading House of Usher.

#tuesdaytunes I asked AI generator to do me the following. Jimi Hendrix reading Wizard of Oz. Nina Simone reading Dune. Cal Tjader reading Foundation. Roy Ayers reading Marx. Rick Wakeman reading Legend and Donna Summer reading The Hobbit. ☺️ More shenanigans next week!

I was reading Tintins before I read “proper” books. The 7 Crystal Balls was the first really enjoyably creepy story I remember reading. Herge is well into his stride, his comic art was peerless. To me, only he and Kirby finessed movement and action. The cast are all really engaging and wonderful characters and I‘ll argue with anyone that Captain Haddock is one of literatures greatest. The cover is iconic and one of my favourites.

Achebe titled his book from a line in Yeats‘ poem, The Second Coming, which imagines what he apparently saw as the Christian “epoch” coming to an end. It‘s an ironic title as, ultimately, Christianity, in the form of missionaries, “slouches” towards Africa, and things start to “fall apart” for the people of Umuofia. From history, we know what‘s coming but we get a poignant story of life‘s fragility on a smaller scale with our protagonist Okonkwo.

Quiet descended upon the crowd at the Sheraton-Cleveland as Asimov sliced open the envelop containing the name of the winning novel of the Hugo Award on a warm September day in ‘66. Big Frank sprayed a mouthful of red wine over the back of Ellison‘s neck as he heard his epic, Dune, would be SHARING the prestigious award with Zelazny‘s slim, dry, Earth-based, This Immortal. He stormed out & missed Rodders‘ premier showing of his new Star Trek pilot

Got to 70%. I guess, with such a short book, I could have carried on but, you know what, I just didn‘t care. Across 3 pages in this dull romance, a scene was, I think, set on a beach, then suddenly they were in a room. I either missed the transition because I was bored or it went surreal. That made me think it was going to be “all a dream” or the narrator is in a coma or some such rubbish. If it‘s neither, I predict the novel fizzles out.

White supremacy, puritan hypocrisy: It‘s the rational for colonising & wreaking havoc on an indigenous people & nature. But, as we recklessly devastate the planet over generations, there flickers ephemeral lives. Here, humans can have poignancy & pathos. Lives are brutal/beautiful. They‘re also relentlessly privileged. Yes, survival of the fittest exits in nature, but we add vulnerability & imbalance. This book is a love letter to trees & nature.

There‘s A LOT of hate for Herbert Jr‘s entries into the Duneiverse. Perhaps because he collaborates with someone whose penmanship is not even close to Dad‘s cerebral, intricate plotting. The two guys don‘t seem to be able to weave threads as confidently as Frank. However, I think they know this so don‘t try. They go down the pulp sci-fi route & In that respect, it‘s a rattling good read. If anyone deserves to squat in Herbert‘s worlds it‘s his son

Having a spring clean in my man-cave/office/studio/library and found my old technical college books. Made my blood run cold I tell ya! I never did want to do plumbing when I left school but we can‘t always get what we want. F Hall (his name always caused snickers in class) was the supreme wizard and plumbing mafia, don gorgon for college text books. Hated the books but love the hand drawn illustrations in all of them. He made a crapper vibey af

I only just found out Frank‘s son did a novel that fills the gap between Dune and Dune Messiah. Also, I booked tickets for the 2nd Villeneuve movie. Those are all the excuses I needed to re-read this masterpiece. This book is so imaginative & evocative. I love Lynch/Villeneuve‘s films but honestly, there is a beauty & depth to this novel that just can‘t exist outside of the page. The phrase is mis/over-used now, but this is proper “world-building”

Some criticisms of David Lynch‘s Dune are that it‘s bloated and gaudy. This book, with its 500 page word count and metallic red edges is close to being the literary equivalent. I don‘t debate with anyone about Lynch‘s Dune. It‘s a weird, beguiling masterpiece that actually stands outside of the novel as a work of art in and of itself and you either like it or you don‘t. This deep dive on the making of this ambitious flop is probably for fans only.

Picked this up on a whim thinking it was going to be a salacious, who‘s who of cancelled celebrity wrong-uns and their crimes. It‘s better than that. It‘s about fandom & the sticky problem “separating the art from the artist”. We see how artists/men behaving badly are given a bye due to their “genius”, while female counterparts are labeled “monsters” for different reason. It‘s all done through a post-modern, Marxist-feminist lens. A great critique