Book Review: Your Utopia

 By Bora Chung

• Translated by: Anton Hur

• Pub Date: 2024

• Genre: Short Stories

• Where I bought this book: Barnes & Noble, Florence, Ky. 

• Why I bought this book: I thoroughly enjoyed Cursed Bunny, Chung's first collection of stories 

 ********* 

   Normally, when reviewing a book, I focus on the author's writing, the quality and imagination of the story, and the telling moments that give the book its star rating. A good story, well told, is what I'm looking for.

    But here, I'm just going to let the author's descriptive writing and fierce imagination speak for itself. The following is a snippet from the tale Maria, Gratia Plena, ostensibly about the investigation of a women thought to be a drug dealer. This part is about a dream the investigator has after looking into the woman's thoughts and memories, which included details about the Cassini mission.

         In my dream, I am a planet. A small, unmanned spacecraft comes up to me, circling me. Whenever it moves, its tiny bright lights sparkle. In that vast bleakness that is the black of space, the spacecraft twinkles its little lights and stays by my side. I am a happy planet.

           But a few days after our first encounter, the spacecraft begins to move away. I shout after it.

           "But why?" 

           The spacecraft does not reply. Blinking its tiny little lights that I love so much, it goes farther and farther away.

           "But why? But why?" 

        It pays my pathetic cries no mind as it continues to go farther toward destruction. When it starts to fall into the fires of the sun, I am woken from my sleep.

           My phone is ringing.

    This collection is mostly about life sometime in the future, when intelligent machines dominate our lives. They have emotions, thoughts, and memories. These are their stories.

    It's a strange future, which gives voice to some of our greatest fears about technology, but like Pandora's Jar, it remains oddly full of hope.

Book Review: Bitch

 By Lucy Cooke

• Pub Date: 2022

• Where I bought this book: Left Bank Books, Saint Louis. 

• Why I bought this book: I heard a Science Friday interview with the author, and I was fascinated

 ********

     Lucy Cooke takes on a lot in this wide ranging study, from Charles Darwin himself, to the male scientists who ignored female ingenuity over the years, to the female scientists who are seeking to right those wrongs, to Disney's ignorant portrayal of the natural world. She does so with a sharp eye, a sharper wit, and mountains of research and interviews to back her up.

    I'm not sure what is more impressive about her work -- her thesis that the females of the species have been wrongly portrayed over the past two centuries, or the staggering amount of research, field trips, and people she has interviewed while working on this book.

    It results in wide ranging factual discussions about animals from the tiny spiders who engage in all kinds of kinky sex -- including oral sex, cannibalistic sex, bisexuality, and bondage -- to the great orca whale, one of five species on earth -- including humans and three other toothed whales -- who undergo menopause.

    She starts by blaming Darwin as a man of his Victorian times, the founder of evolutionary science, who believed it dictated the activities of the two sexes. Males take advantage of the abundance of sperm and mimic it by being active, aggressive, and promiscuous in their sex lives. Females, who have to protect their limited supply of eggs, became coy, passive, and selective. These traits were projected onto humans. So it was, and so it ever shall be.

    Bollocks, says the Oxford educated Cooke.

    As just one example of misguided illusions she cites: In the animated movie Finding Nemo, the anemone mother, Coral, dies while laying her eggs during a barracuda attack, leaving just one hatched egg to survive. Years go by, and we are shown how the overprotective father, Marlin, goes to search for his missing son, Nemo. But clownfish such as Marlin and Nemo are female-dominant species. Should the mother die, the male father would switch to female. The son would quickly mature and mate with her, producing more young.

    I'm guessing Disney did not find evolution particularly family friendly in that case.

    (Also, penguins do not exist in Madagascar, and ring-tailed lemurs have a queen, not a king, because they are a female dominant species.)

    But Cooke takes down more than pop culture's assumptions. She offers, sometimes gleefully, the many female-dominant species that are promiscuous and cunning in their sex lives. Take the female songbirds, long thought to be monogamous for life, who often slip away for a little extra sexual relations on the side before returning to the nest. They may be socially monogamous, but they seek out and enjoy the extra male attention.

    Why all this happens is still being debated, investigated and researched. It's a lot of work, and example of contradiction abound. For instance, chimps and bonobos, our closest primate evolutionary mates, are total opposites.

From the book: An image
of a female bonobo
in the throes of passion

    Chimps are male dominated, aggressive, and violent. Bonobos are female-led, aggressive only in sharing sexual activities -- they enjoy frottage as foreplay, for helping them reach decisions for the group, and as a social diversion -- and peaceful. (And yes, bonobos are believed to be one of several species in which females enjoy orgasms.)

    A few quibbles here: Cooke tends to repeat herself over the chapters. And sometimes, she provides too much information, such as telling us how she interviewed a scientist over Zoom or Skype, which honestly felt irrelevant. 

    But her research is impressive. After a book of 288 pages of heavy if enjoyable reading, she has 90 pages of acknowledgements, notes, and an index. There are also numerous footnotes in the text, and you should read them. How else would you learn that a 16th Century Catholic priest with the unlikely name of Gabriele Falloppio was the first to identify and describe the clitoris -- and invent the first prophylactic sheath to shield against syphilis?

    Cooke hopes her book's reception will lead to more research, more equality between the sexes in human culture, and a greater acceptance of gender fluidity, which is rampant in the natural world. The transitional anemonefish "rocked my world," she said in closing.

    Discovering that biological sex is, in truth, a spectrum and that all sexes are basically the products of the same genes, the same hormones, and the same brains, has been the greatest revelation of all. It's forced a shift in my perspective o recognize my own cultural biases and try to banish any lingering heteronormative assumptions about the relationship between sex, sexual identity, sexed behaviour and sexuality.

    All I can add is, #MeToo. 

Book Review: The Light Pirate

•  Author: Lily Brooks-Dalton

• Where I bought this book: The Book Loft, Columbus, Ohio 

• Why I bought this book: My first daughter strongly recommended it. 

*******

   

    The story here is excellent -- futuristic fiction that is a cautionary tale of where society is headed, and in some cases, may already be.

    The characters, particularly the protagonist, Wanda, who we see grow from an infant to old age, are well drawn and realistic. Even the supporting roles, the minor characters who round out and give depth to the story, are whole people, even if we wish we could know more about them.

    But ... but ... but -- it does have some flaws. It gets to be, in certain places, just a wee bit more melodramatic than I care for. And the ominous narrator who appears at the end of some chapters to deliver a foreboding message is unnecessary, and quite frankly, a bit annoying.

    Still. 

    The book is set in a Florida where the effects of climate change are seen daily in the climbing temperatures, rising ocean levels, and raging storms. Indeed, the state is going under, both literally and figuratively. Infrastructure is disintegrating, and government, with no money and few people left, are being shut down. People are getting out. Miami has been abandoned. The small town of Rudder is breaking down as the gulf waters encroach on the land.

    Meanwhile, the Lowe family is also falling apart. Kirby, a lineman who is vainly trying to keep the lights on in and help save his hometown, is not dealing well with his pregnant wife, his two boys, and the oncoming Hurricane Wanda.

    Afterwards, we follow Wanda from her birth during the storm, as she grows up while Florida and the country fall apart around her. She is portrayed as a survivor who adapts to a different lifestyle than the one we know, but one that brings constant challenges and devastating losses. 

    She also has a special glow about her whenever she touches water -- again, both literally and figuratively. Whether it's science or magic -- and after all, isn't science just magic with an explanation -- is yet to be told.

    One of the messages that I -- an aging geezer who is set in his ways and dislikes change --got from the book is that I'm glad I have lived most of my life when I did. And I am sorry my generations really, truly, screwed things up.

Book Review: Piranesi

 

•  Author: Susanna Clarke

• Where I bought this book: A Room of One's Own, Madison, Wisc. 

• Why I bought this book: I was looking for a title by a similarly named author, and came across this instead.

*********

        Yes, there is a story in here, and it's a wonderful one, so it's worth your while to get to it.

    But what keeps you going in this magical place are the descriptions. The fantastical, detailed discoveries behind every door, in every chamber and hall, filled with statues that delight and compel and charm. 

    Yes, Piranesi's wanderings are fun to follow. His attempts to divine the origins and implications of where he is keep the tale from his journals moving along.

    It's a remarkably strange place, even for a fantasy book. It could be a world inside a building, or a building that it a world. We don't know. We explore its ramifications with Piranesi, as he speaks to us through those writings.

    Piranesi is all but alone in the world. There is someone else, named The Other. There is evidence of other people who are or have been there, but it's all speculation, based on snippets of writings he has found.  

 One sentence puzzles me: The world was constantly speaking to Ancient Man. I do not understand why this sentence is in the past tense. The World still speaks to me every day.

    Indeed, the pleasure of this book is not the story of who Piranesi is and where he is, but the place itself, and the secrets it hides. Sometimes, the story actually gets in the way of the pleasure of reading this remarkable book.

    Yes, the secrets are revealed. It is well worth waiting for.        

Book Review

Once There Were Wolves, by Charlotte McConaghy

• Where I bought this book: The Book Loft, Columbus, Ohio
• Why I bought this book: I loved her first novel, Migrations

*******

    Inti Flynn is trying to start a new community. It is one that she feels -- in her very bones and in her soul -- to be a part of, but also one she can only watch from afar. 

    Her goal is to reintroduce wolves into rural Scotland. They once lived there, but the shepherds ran them off. As a result, the deer population exploded, and the grasslands and forests are slowing dying, She knows in her heart that returning the  wolves to the area will put its envionment back into balance.

    But the community fears the wolves will kill all their sheep.

    Flynn should be the perfect candidate for the job. She can be hard, but she has a natural empathy toward others. 

    She has a condition called mirror-touch synthesis. Whenever she sees a person feeling pain or pleasure, she experiences the same feeling.  Literally: If she sees two people kissing, her lips experience the act of kissing and being kissed. On the other hand, if she watches two animals fighting, she endures what both animals suffer -- if one is bitten, she can feel the sensation of biting and the painof being bitten. She will see and feel her phantom blood flow. 

    (Yes, it's a real conidtion. I checked. It affects about 2 percent of the population.)

    Flynn -- who is mostly an introvert -- has a symbiotic relationship with her twin sister, Aggie, who has even more introverted tendencies. Aggie has a troubled psyche, having been the viction of domestic abuse and sexual assault. The sisters have a complicated relationship with their divorced parents, who live on two separate continents -- Australia and North America. Flynn also finds a lover and becomes pregnant in the novel, which is paired with the wolves mating and reproducing.

     (Yes, lots of metaphors here, which tie down the book.)

    Anyway. The book focuses on Inti bringing the wolves back, and fighting with the local shepherds -- she both upbraids them and tries to calmly bring them along. Most don't want to listen, although a few here and there are willing to hear her out. Her approach is complicated by her belief that getting too close to some of the residents will simultaneously help her understand them, as well as destroy her ability to view them from afar.

    (Another metaphor. She also takes this approach to the wolves, because if they become too comfortable with humans, they will lose part of their natural instincts for survival.)

    And, at times, the book gets almost into a detective/thriller mode (yes, there is an unsolved murder) that also tends to bog it down.

    Yet, McConaghy is such a good writer she is able to rise above the complicated mess she has gotten herself into. The book moves along with grace and style, and the story is about a community that needs to love and care for all its members, with understanding, and with a heart, and a soul.

Book Review: Migrations

Migrations, by Charlotte McConaghy

    Franny Stone is forever seeking, searching, and surviving.

    The budding ornithologist is of Irish-Australian heritage, but she doesn't feel at home in either place. In fact, she rarely feels at home; she only is comfortable in or by the sea -- preferably alone, in the cold, deep ocean water.

    Set again the backdrop of an earth in the throes of a full-blown extinction crisis -- most land animals are gone, birds are disappearing, and the seas are being emptied of fish -- Migration follows Franny as she chases a flock of Arctic terns on perhaps its last migration. She tells us the terns are known for their record-shattering flights.

   That is true. The Arctic tern, a small bird about a foot long with a 2 1/2-foot wingspan, regularly travels the length of the Earth to its breeding grounds. They start up as far north as Greenland, and criss-cross down the Atlantic Ocean in a S-curve, thought to take advantage of the prevailing winds. They can travel some 44,000 miles on their journey. 

    Franny wants to follow them, and oddly, she persuades a fishing boat to take her. A vegetarian and conservationist, Franny dislikes fishermen, blaming them for the destruction of aquatic life. Her pairing up with them and their craggy captain, Ennis, is one of many contradictions in her life. 

    Others include her love for her husband as she always runs from him. She searches for her family, but shies away from releationships. She survives her own reckless life as she follows extinction.

    The story's main arc is the pursuit of the terns and the tale of  her voyage with the raggedy crew she meets and mostly befriends. But pierced throughout are flashbacks to other episodes in her life, which somewhat explain why she is always so antsy to leave those she loves. Some of those revelations can be startling -- those of the "Wait ... wait ... What?" variation. You find yourself re-reading certain passages just to ensure you understood it correctly.

    That is the allure of this sometimes depressing but mostly uplifting novel. It is stunningly beautiful in its story, in its descriptions, and in its warnings about how our actions are killing the planet. Franny is a wonderfully drawn character, with the flaws and fervor of the great heroes and wanderers in literature.

    It's more than a good read. It's a great read.

Book Review: Ballad

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, by Suzanne Collins

   

    This is a prequel to the Hunger Games series, and a much needed backstory to one of the characters. I would not mind seeing more of these.

    It does help to have read the original series, and from what I can tell, this prequel hews closely to the future story.

    It looks into the life of future President Coriolanus Snow, and it also details how the Hunger Games grew from an unpopular killing and dying spree among unknown urchins to the much-loved extravaganza (well, at least by the Capital crowd) we see in the novels today. Hint: Snow had a lot to do with that.

    The Snow this book portrays is a sympathetic one. If you didn't know who and what he became, you might even be cheering for him at times. But then you realize who he is and what he will do, and you think, "Nah. Screw him."

    The novel's Snow is a somewhat privileged member of the elite living in Capital City. But the capital is not the glitzy, trendy place of the future. Instead, it's a city and populace still suffering from the wars, revolutions, and ecological disasters that forged Panem. You really get involved with the history of Panem, District 12, and the others, a decade or so after it formed.

    It does not reveal the beginnings of Panem, or why or how it started. Let's hope that will be revealed in the next tale in the pre-series. I could get into the backstories of other main characters, with a little bit of a creation tale.

    And, perhaps this time, a map.

Book Review: The Pine Barrens

The Pine Barrens, by John McPhee

Reading this 52-year-old book is not a step back in time. Rather, it's like reading Wendell Berry writing about his beloved Kentucky, showing how the land centers us in a place, and how that place helps to define us.

Joxer the Mighty says he could be a Piney, too

McPhee's 1967 book helped bring attention to the diverse environment of the Pine Barrens in southern New Jersey. Partly as a result, Congress designated more than one million acres as the Pinelands National Reserve, strictly limiting development in the fragile area.

The Pinelands is a forest of sandy land flanked by the populous East Coast and the Philadelphia metropolis. Its soil also is acidic and nutrient poor, so early settlers passed it over in favor of richer land in other directions. Small industries developed here and there, but by the time of the civil war, larger factories could do the work cheaper and closer to the markets. The Pinelands mostly reverted to its natural state.

Small crossroads towns popped up where a few independent families stayed on. The population shrunk to a few hardy settlers who remained.

McPhee captures them in a beautifully written narrative. His eye for detail, his ear for language, and his sense of culture is extraordinary. He wrote not as a native of the barrens, but as one who had taken the time to learn and understand the people who live there. He gained the trust and respect of a enigmatic people who, for good reason, are normally suspicious of outsiders.

Some of the gentlest of people -- botanists, canoemen, campers -- spend a great deal of time in the pines, but their influence has not been sufficient to correct an impression, vivid in some parts of the state for fifty years, that the pineys are weird and sometimes dangerous barefoot people who live in caves, marry their sisters, and eat snakes. Pineys are, for the most part, mild and shy, but their resentment is deep, and they will readily and forcefully express it.

Later, McPhee brings us to the largest crossroads town in the Pinelands, where the natives show disdain for the image outsiders have of them. The owner of the local grocery store shared her thoughts.

Live in caves and intermarry, hah. No one ever lived in caves that I heard of. I don't know anyone around here except one family that's intermarried, and I've lived here all my life. 

The book is full of little tidbits like that.  It's historical, folk-lorical, and metaphorical. It intersperses interviews with and descriptions of the Pineys with details of the Pinelands ecology, history, and geography. It's a little book -- barely 150 pages -- but it packs a lot of detail.