Reviews and Comments

When the first poem (Give Me This) focused on a groundhog eating the tomatoes in the author's garden, I had a feeling that I would connect well with this book. Some of the other poems that seem to be sticking in my mind are Intimacy (regarding her mother's interaction with horses) and The Mountain Lion (maybe because I just recently attended a great library program featuring trail cam videos of wildlife in the Chicago suburbs).

I saw this on Jeff VanderMeer's list of climate fiction recommendations in the New York Times. It's focused on Frankie, a MacArthur genius grant recipient who is studying bonobos. Her experience with endometriosis is an important part of the book. I appreciated the unsettling dystopian aspects of the novel (e.g., E-musement screens that won't turn off, malfunctioning "bodyware" implants, etc.), and the climate elements were well done also (e.g., a massive dust storm). The bonobos are truly fascinating and are significant characters in the story. In the second half, it started to feel like more of a thriller, but then it began to drag a bit and get somewhat repetitive. There were also few times when I thought that certain thoughts or dialogue didn't ring true or quite make sense in the context (same with some NY vs. Midwest tropes), but those are minor complaints. Overall it was very interesting and engaging.

It took me a while to catch up to the rhythm of this book, with its quick word play and fragmented storytelling, but after that I really enjoyed it. As with Autumn, it covers a lot of ground, from the political (e.g., Brexit and the Greenham Common protests) to the personal (e.g., long-estranged sisters reconnecting but still butting heads). There's also some absurdity, like the busload of birders chasing Canada Warbler sightings. The shenanigans with Art and the woman he hires to pose as his girlfriend, Charlotte, are hilarious.

After seeing Ron Charles mention this book in his newsletter ("a work of illustrated nonfiction that will awaken and haunt anyone who reads it"), I decided to check it out to mark the 4th anniversary of Russia's full-scale invasion of Ukraine. It is powerful and very timely, providing important background on Russia's long history of aggression and also highlighting aspects of the authoritarian playbook in general.

A+ storytelling and a great Chicago book. Very well written - and warmly written, too. By the end of the first chapter, I felt like I knew these characters as real people. The part focused on the 1990 AIDS demonstration was really moving. I'd had this on a back burner for a while but decided to dive in after seeing Mick Herron recommend it recently in The Guardian ... and after reading about the Republicans' infuriating funding cuts for global HIV/AIDS programs.

Very well-written, entertaining and thought-provoking. I really enjoyed the focus on Tom, a scholar about 100 years in the dystopian future, who is researching a lost poem and also trying to teach uninterested students about our world. His appreciation of the past (our present) is fun to experience, and it provides a great perspective. For example: "I prefer teaching the post-2015 period, when social media were beginning to be drawn into the currency of private lives, when waves of fantastical or malevolent or silly rumours began to shape the nature not only of politics but of human understanding. Fascinating!"

And I loved a lot of the writing. There's a description of Tom trying to access a container and get it open, using not quite the right tools, and it reminded me of so many home projects I've done over the years. The effort, anticipation and frustration are captured perfectly.

The first part was funnier and more thrilling than the second part, but still it was great overall. And as for the title, what we can know is ... hard to say. Even things that people write in their journals may be false or misleading. And when the record isn't clear, Tom struggles with how to proceed: "Surely it was permissible to make educated guesses about the subjective states and lines of thought of people who had died a hundred years ago. Perhaps it was not."

A complete joy to read, and surprisingly fast too. Smith's exhilarating writing, with lots of wordplay, artistic observations, and literary references, keeps my brain on its toes. The Brexit pall hanging over the story hits hard right now, with the anti-immigrant crackdown happening in the U.S. I'm very much looking forward to continuing with the rest of the quartet. Great audiobook narration by Melody Grove.

Very good historical fiction. Interesting to have it revolve around a real event - the 1984 bombing of the Grand Hotel in Brighton during the Tory conference - but then have it focus less on the event itself and more on the pre-event thoughts and activities of three characters: Dan (a member of the IRA), Moose (disappointed but hopeful deputy general manager at the hotel), and Freya (Moose's teenage daughter). Well-written, insightful, and often funny.