Reviews and Comments

Theo was a worse person than Kit but a better narrator and Theo's section were more fun to read. Kit's sections were more of a chore and I didn't much like how he described things.

Theo was a good example of a nonbinary character and someone who was emotionally closed off.

The characters could be frustrating when they made up reasons not to be together. I get that that's kind of the point, but it rankled over the course of the whole book.

Wish fulfillment book that was honest about what it was. Author was clearly putting themselves in the role of Theo.

I'm not a foodie so the food descriptions didn't do it for me. Not the author's fault, but I sometimes felt like I was missing out.

This was very deeply researched and very academic. Summers did a deep dive into decades and decades of archives. I especially appreciated when individual case studies were used to illustrate a point in the hospital's history.

The book didn't really feel like it put parts together. This had much more value as a presentation of research than a piece of writing. I had trouble latching onto a coherent thesis or throughline.

This sort of reminded me of the Netflix series Adolescence in that I found it more interesting as conceptual exercise than a story.

The book is in (usually) very short chapters and jumps back and forth between the viewpoint characters. In that way it's kind of an ADHD simulator. Early in the book I found it hard to tell Bastian and Lore apart from each other. That's sort of a commentary on how we tend to classify and box people in by ethnicity and gender expression, but it also forced me to take notes to remember which character was which. Later in the book we learned how Lore had to keep notes for everything, so the book succeeded at putting me into the shoes of the character.

This was a small story that focused on the inner lives of the two viewpoint characters and everyone else was pretty one dimensional. There's nothing wrong with a small story sometimes, but I felt that the world under the lake was underutilized. It was very richly described, but it taught the characters a simple lesson and then didn't figure much into the last third of the book.

All in all, very interesting conceptually and gave me a better emotional understanding of ADHD and Dyslexia, but not a lot of fun to read and I wasn't eager to get to each new chapter.

This was a very solid entry that built on the world and fleshed out Haymitch's character. I was invested in the narrative and found Haymitch believable and compelling. Maysilee was a "mean girl" archetype written sympathetically, which was uncommon and enjoyable. Downside here was a bit too much prequel syndrome: trying a little too hard to fit in things from the original books.

I've long thought the the world building parts and the anticipation in the leadup to the games were more interesting than the games themselves, and Collins apparently agrees. The games don't start until halfway through and only take up about 30% of the book. Even then, Haymitch spends the majority of them staying out of the action.

The drumbeat of Haymitch taking on an ally and then watching them die starts to seem repetitive and that he barely gets a chance to know them, but that's kind of the point. It reminded me of the movie The Iron Claw in that way.

This book was more mature but less subtle than the previous entries, which is an odd fit. The writing was aged up a little with the audience, but the themes were somehow even less subtle than the original books. The thesis is stated in the epigraph, then pounded in throughout the book.

The book includes a brief epilogue set after the main series and a sample chapter of the first Hunger Games book, which I don't like because it would be pretty funny if you read this with no knowledge of the other books. Ultimate downer ending.

The casting for the movie is amazing, and I'll be there opening weekend.

Excited, I'm a big Hunger Games fan, and the movie already has a great cast.

This took me awhile to read as I took breaks for a couple of other books. I feel it could have worked better as two shorter books. There was a clear break in the middle, and the author could have worked in a separate climax.

This had a better handle on the characters than the first one, but didn't feel as propulsive. I wasn't as eager to get to the next chapter. Characters continue to be introduced and killed so quickly that the reader is hesitant to get attached. I liked the development of Adarna.

This was very cozy and comforting, but also bittersweet. This is the most on-point narration from a child's point of view that I can remember since Room (the child is older and more aware, here though).

Each character had emotional depth, and it was a joy to see the narrator become more confident.

Listened to as an audiobook in one sitting. Author's voice sounded like how I imagined the character. Definitely a re-listen in the future.

I was excited about this book because I expected it to be primarily about cults, but it was much more of a body horror/monster book.

The thing I look for in a work about cults in some understanding off why people joined the cult. Cults appeal to psychological vulnerabilities, and everyone has them. For, e.g., The People's Temple or Heaven's Gate, I primarily see the grave evil they did while still understanding what they offered and how they convinced people they were improving the world and themselves. The Angels are all stick and no carrot. I don't see what their members get out of it. I don't exactly need their systematic theology, but I need to know more about how they arrived at such an extreme belief and what's in it for the common person in the pews. A simple change here would be to make the Angels the only ones who had medication to survive the virus.

I don't know Andrew Joseph White's background, but the way he writes is like someone who grew up going to the downtown First Methodist church a few times a year, and maybe went to Six Flags America with the youth group. In other words, he writes like a person who's reasonably familiar with Christianity, but hasn't experienced or deeply researched religious trauma. The religious elements felt like a Hallowe'en costume for the villains.

This feels somewhat like a book from the 2000s. In that era it felt like religion was the cause of queerphobia. People had legitimately never (knowingly) met a queer person, and believed what their church told them. That feels out of place in the 2020s when religion is increasingly downstream of culture. A lot of people who identify as Evangelical never go to church. They have the regressive social views first and then identify with a religion to justify them.

I thought the body horror part was effective. I will have to think through and discuss how the monster/body horror theme relates to the trans experience.

The story of Revelation is a highly symbolic liberatory narrative about a minority religious group surviving under imperial occupation. Some modern Christians, primarily in America, misread it as a triumphalist story about God proving them right and torturing their enemies. There's a good novel in there about how we misperceive monsters in the same way, but I don't think this novel gets there. The thing I look for in a work about cults in some understanding off why people joined the cult.

I will have to think through how the body horror part relates to the trans experience.

I enjoyed the insight on the comedy writing process, but the long early sections about Hannah's childhood made the book difficult to get into.

I did respect how the author set boundaries and kept the memoir focused on things she wanted to talk about. Some of the repeated bits (Stop! __ time) got tiresome.

I went into this wondering if there would be a sudden twist like in Nanette and there wasn't, which I think was the right call. Don't want to get put into a box.