Looking at this book, I didn't realize until I looked more closely at the cover art, that it was an overhead shot of people, gathered around a wide empty middle space. That one image communicates a lot about power and control. It's a great set-up for the tone of the novel.
This is about an extraterrestrial contact, both sudden and consequential, with huge hulking powerful spacecraft. The people in this story are stunned by the presence of the alien ships and don't know what to think. Nothing they were seeing fit into their expectations of reality. How could this be happening? Why? What did it mean? What would happen next? It threw people into a state of heightened sympathetic nervous system response, which is of course, unsustainable. They also could not have known that part of the reason why the aliens were so bold was due to the fact that they already had folks in place who knew they were coming. When you think about it, that's really the only way a species can confidently appear in the atmosphere of another occupied world.
So, not only did the ships appear in the skies suddenly, they acted suddenly. Unlike the movie "Independence Day" these aliens weren't here to destroy cities. They just stole the people. They stole every person in a whole city, tossing any vehicles the people had been in, as if the cars were crumpled up burger wrappers. Hot trash rained down from the atmosphere for days. It's a premise I haven't yet seen in alien invasion stories, and I have to say, I dig it. It really works. At this point, I have big "Don't get on that ship: To Serve Man: It's a cookbook!" vibes, but the real reason for the alien abduction is more complex that I anticipated.
After this horrifying beginning, when people around the world could only imagine the worst about what might happen to those taken by the aliens, the story suddenly shifts to introduce a Scottish Psychiatrist with a highly unusual patient. What prompts her to connect her patient's elaborate seemingly delusional story to this sudden gruesome group disappearance? Well, first we need to hear his story for ourselves.
And what a story it is. This man explains who he really is, and why he is here on our Earth. There are 23 of those like him, and this detail made me smile, because there are 23 pairs of chromosomes which form the genetic makeup of a human being: gene expression all encoded in our DNA in a very specific pattern combination of proteins: Adenine, Guanine, Cytosine, and Thiamine: A G C T. And, if human beings can be reduced to letter sequences (extremely long letter sequences in the genome, but still), why can't machine-based sentience also be called "life," just created by numbers: 0 and 1? Both are codes, after all. It's an intriguing premise. It's like a little Easter egg in the story.
And, I have to say that the reference to the sudden Cognitive Revolution, a rapid change in early humans ability to think, build, and use tools in new ways, has always bothered me. It wasn't gradual. It was sudden and drastic, especially for the other types of early humans, who were wiped off the face of the earth. It's a great vector for any number of conspiracy theories, so why not aliens? The author taps into our discomfort with the vaguest unexplained parts of human history. It's smarter than many narratives on this point.
The author could have made all the aliens cold and monolithic in nature, but he didn't. It seems more likely that they would still have individual characteristics and variations. A couple of them might even have mixed emotions about the humans. It felt charming, hopeful, warm-hearted even, to think that one of the aliens would have the heart to warn the descendants of one of his favorite people, that she should flee the alien ships. It gave me the same feeling as the Biblical scene where God Himself gently closes the door on Noah's Ark, or when God walks alone in the Garden of Eden in the cool of the evening. The alien has that same combination of deep care and limitless power.
The author writes well, and is especially good at atmospheric description. I loved how he called a gray day in Scotland "a tinplate sky bolted to the heavens." There are many great phrases like that sprinkled throughout the narrative, and not one of them wanders into purple prose. The writing is taut and professional. Hider also has a deft hand in combining two powerful forces: social media and horror, which truly are made for each other. The potential was always there to exploit.
If you know me, I'm always looking for subtext or hidden hints from the author which provide even more depth to the story, so bear with me. Perhaps I'm reading way too much into it, but the fact that the sentient artificial super-intelligence creates 462 "harvesters" to help them gather all the humans, seems like a very specific numerical reference to genetic completeness: each of us humans have 46 chromosomes, 23 pairs from each of our two parents.
I love this kind of stuff. Okay, back to the story: So, how does society react to an alien attack? Do they put their differences aside and work cooperatively towards a solution? Ha ha. No. This is not an episode of "The Super Friends." In real life, people take advantage of any volatility in the social contract, and generally go berserk. When an imminent threat remains murky for too long, people can't stand the uncertainty and create targets for their frustration. The aliens smartly wait them out for a while. The one thing everyone wants is for someone to convince them that that everything is going to be okay. If they can trust in that message, they will refuse to let go of it. It feeds into our most powerful impulses.
I really like how the author presents a wide variety of people's responses to the aliens promises: everything from violent distrust to ecstatic hope. The author also does a great job of moving the story along, carefully adding the right number of characters while ramping up the tension, and never allowing the story to lag. It's an adventure, from start to finish. It's a fun read, and I finished it in one day, because I had to know what was going to happen next in every stage of the story.
Thank you to NetGalley and Black Rose Writing for providing this e-book for review. I'm definitely going to read this author again in the future.
Also, there are two really good books out this year, both titled RIPE. You definitely want to read the other one, too, by Sarah Rose Etter.
@bookstodon Notable new book releases in the U.S. for September 26, 2023. It took forever to wade through everything this week and try to narrow/compile the best list I could. Please be aware that there's also a lot of great teen, YA, and especially nonfiction released today.
Black River Orchard, Chuck Wendig. [An apple a day won't keep the horror away.] ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐
Furies, Margaret Atwood, et al. [Feminist tales aim to reclaim slurs used for centuries vs. strong independent female characters.]
Land of Milk and Honey, C Pam Zhang. [Examination of the seductive nature of consumption, in a clever allegory about Climate Change.]
The Golem of Brooklyn, Adam Mansbach. [Surprisingly funny and affecting story about faith, group identity, bigotry, and vengeance.]
People Collide, Isle McElroy. [Gender swap premise remade with sharp intelligence and thoughtful questions about sexuality/identity.]
And Then She Fell, Alicia Elliott. [First Nations new mother in Toronto feels her belonging and her sanity unraveling, and cannot determine how much she's being gaslit.]
The Caretaker, Ron Rash. [A small town, in which each character thinks they know what really matters, until dramatic events make them see more clearly.]
The Witches of Bone Hill, Ava Morgyn. [Dark twists and turns abound in this creepy house of horror thriller.]
Enlightened, Sachi Ediriweera. [Graphic novel about the origin of Buddhism: Siddhartha. Told through the prince on a journey.]
The Navigating Fox, Christopher Rowe. [Intriguing speculative/alt history fiction about the Roman Empire expanding into some of North America and, happily, all of the Indigenous Nations still thrive.]
Undiscovered, Gabriela Weiner, Julia Sanchez, translator. [Partially based on actual history, about the emotional
struggle to reconcile the colonial past with modern identity.]
Blackward, Lawrence Lindell. [Fantastic title, right? A graphic novel for all of us who felt like we didn't belong to the cool club in school, with special love for Black, queer, nerdy, "weird" folks.]
The Out Side: Trans and Nonbinary Comics, The Kao, ed. [I enjoyed this graphic novel. You rarely see comics about the experiences of coming out, collected all in one place.] ⭐⭐⭐⭐
@bookstodon I've included books of poetry on "best of year" lists, but this is the very first time I've added a book of poetry to an all-time "kickass books" list: LORD OF THE BUTTERFLIES, by nonbinary poet Andrea Gibson is that book.
#BookReview: This is simply a remarkable collection by a talented poet.
The themes are varied, but connected by a thread of pain:
of gender exploration and the backlash it creates
of the longing and despair of unrequited love
of watching someone you love defined by their addiction
of seeing the violent hatred that others can have, simply because you exist
of battling anxiety and depression, those twin enemies from within
of battling even harder against unhelpful advice
of chronic illness and the invisibility of disability
of colonialism, and the domination of (rather than stewardship over) the natural world
of the history of this country that has been wildly distorted, and celebrated for exactly the wrong things
of the justification of evil
of grief
of being human
The poet is an artist, carefully surrounding that thread of pain with beauty, acceptance, celebration, strength, and purpose. Gibson creates what I call an "exploratorium," a place where someone can find the truth of themselves, a space they fit into, and safely wander a path until they are ready to love themselves and live that truth. No one can live fully without living authentically.
The poetry was so good, I became greedy for it, and I had to intentionally slow down.
@bookstodon My full review of BLACK RIVER ORCHARD, by Chuck Wendig. I've tried not to be too spoilery, but if you like to go into your horror having no idea what to expect, then probably don't read this review, or the jacket copy.
Buckle up, horror fans. This one is a crazy ride!
I've been a fan of Chuck Wendig's work for a while, especially 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑩𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝑨𝒄𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔 and 𝑾𝒂𝒚𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒅. In those novels, it was mostly the story that grabbed me. In Black River Orchard, it's both the story and the fantastic writing. The descriptions just pop with sharp definitive lines.
The book opens with two different prologues from two distinctly different times. Both introductions project a sinister mood, though the atmosphere and events in the second prologue are much more disturbing. In each we gather hints of what probably gives those black-red apples their unusual hue.
After Chapter One, I reflected to myself: 𝙄𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙥𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙫𝙚? 𝙄𝙨 𝙞𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙬𝙖𝙣𝙩𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙣𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙨, 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙖𝙠𝙚 𝙪𝙨 𝙙𝙤 𝙞𝙩𝙨 𝙗𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜?
By Chapter Two, I realized that if the title is 𝑩𝒍𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝑹𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝑶𝒓𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒅, there must be a river. Oh God, don't let the river become sentient in my mind as well. Yet, it does appear that the river wants things. But, that's silly, right? We chalk it up to anthropomorphism, any excuse like that, when we start ascribing intent and desire to things that cannot think or feel (we hope). The only thing we can be sure of, as one corner of the map of this story unfolds, is that there's something each character isn't telling us.
Most of the characters are very intriguing. Even the ones you can't stand are okay, because you're supposed to find them exasperating. I thought I was going to grind down a molar for my distaste for Meg, controlling power lesbian, until her wife Emily finally stood up to her own fears, which led to standing up for herself occasionally, and I could finally relax my jaw. Plus, meeting Joanie and Graham made getting through Meg and her awful mother Noreeen totally worth it.
Along the way, if you were keeping count, the author does a jam-up job of tackling racism, sexism, classism, transphobia, homophobia, gun culture, weaponized prudishness, book bans, factory farms, online harassment, colonialism, conspicuous consumerism, and secret societies, all within just the first 20% of the book. Wendig also ensures than non-binary, trans, and gay characters aren't simply caricatures. You know you've achieved parity when you get to be a whole person.
This early mark is also the point at which the author subtly reminds the reader to keep track of who, so far, does not eat the special apples. After carefully recalling who does not eat the fruit, we turn our attention to who does, and what stranger things begin happening when they do.
About a third of the way in, Wendig provides another tantalizing clue to the mystery of why these apples are so different, and why they might be affecting people the way they do. I dig the way he lays down these cards carefully, one at a time.
By the way, if you don't care for asides in parentheses, you may be a little irritated with their ubiquity in this novel. Personally, I am a pro-parentheses person, much preferring the aside over footnotes or endnotes. It feels like a series of miniature wrapped gifts from the author to the reader, a little candy trail of clues.
At some point, the story begins to seem a little "Invasion of the Body Snatchery" but that's fine. Honestly, I expected to make that comparison. Frankly, the deeper I went into the story, the more I was hooked. Ironic? Possibly.
The reader may wonder if the author is making a point about cult-like organizations. I think that's abundantly clear. Belonging can make a person feel more powerful, and more important, while they are under the influence of the cult, but the influence turns out to be a kind of poison, both for the cult members and for their friends and family. The thing about cults is they change us, the structure of how we think, how we function, how we move in the world, and how we react to and make decisions, and these effects can easily affect those who are not even in the cult. Any interference may well be met with verbal abuse, and threats of outright violence. Through this story, we discover that revenge is not really sweet, though it is often cold.
In the story, there is a frightening reversal of the Eucharist, in the way in which evil has been voluntarily consumed, and which in turn, consumes the body and blood of its adherents in order to proliferate. Though it goes against their self-interest, even self-preservation, the cult members will sacrifice themselves for their dear leader, who only uses them for his wicked purposes.
Lest we place all the blame squarely on the slippery leader, we should remember that the followers tended to have an open vulnerability or even affinity to the kind of evil they embraced. It was not forced upon them; it settled where it found the right shape of spaces to fit into: gaps in empathy, understanding, and goodwill. This, my friends, is the heart of the story.
I want to thank NetGalley, Penguin Random House, and Del Rey Books for providing an early copy of this novel for review. #Horror#books#BooksWorthReading
Notable new book releases in the U.S. for September 19, 2023:
Mother, Daughter, Traitor, Spy, Susan Ella MacNeal. [WWII hunt for Nazi sympathizers in L.A.]
Starter Villain, John Scalzi. [I mean, SPY CATS, do you need anything more?]
The Box, Mandy-Suzanne Wong. [ A puzzle box within an expanding and contracting puzzle box.]
Beyond the Door of no Return, David Diop, Sam Taylor. [Senegalese Revenant story.]
Never Whistle at Night: an Indigenous Dark Fiction Anthology, Shane Hawk, ed.
The World Wasn't Ready for You, Justin C. Key. [If "Get Out" were expressed in short horror stories]
Have You Seen Her? Dea Poirer. [Missing sister psychological thriller.]
Red Rabbit, Alex Grecian. [Western Folk-Horror with a bazillion characters. I'm definitely going to need to read this one.]
Inverse Cowgirl, Alicia Roth Wiegel. [Intersex rights and identity.]
Mr. Texas, Lawrence Wright. [Political parody as big as Texas.]
North Woods, Daniel Mason. [If these walls could talk.]
Black Sheep, Rachel Harrison. [You can't go home again.]
The Golden Gate, Amy Chua. [Historical thriller with everything: politics, racism, sex, and war.]
A Volga Tale, Guzel Yakhina. [Historical fiction as big and bold as the river that separates two peoples.]
Night Watch, Jayne Anne Phillips. [Post-Civil War survival story.]
The Wolves of Eternity, Karl Ove Knausgaard. [Big questions about how we see the world and our place in it, fate, destiny, and what we owe each other along the way.]
Pig: Poems, Sam Sax. [Humanity seen through the lens of everything pig. Brash, intelligent and a bit tawdry.]
The winds moan.
The inn shakes.
Footsteps echo above us.
Have the police found the killer?
Nature stills as if holding its breath.
I stare at my shivering guests
before the lights go out.
And the snow continues to fall.
This novel is beautifully written. Groff's poetic prose expands along with the story's progression, and culminates in a soaring revelation about humanity, life, and purpose.
The main character is a girl named Lamentations, a kind of living elegy for us all.
As in most literary fiction, character is more important than the plot. The premise does not seem like enough structure to build on, but the author manages to make every step of Lamentations' journey memorable and engaging.
There is an unmistakable message, a moral imperative presented in not so much a heavy-handed way, just abundantly clearly. Essentially, of all the deadly dangers humanity can face, it turns out that we are our own worst enemies. Our greed and arrogance are the obstacles we put in our own way.
The author zerores in on a philosophical problem plaguing humankind: a void within each of us, a great "nothing" which almost by definition can never be filled. It is this unfillable hole at the center of us which creates our collective insatiable gaping maw, a destructive desire to consume everything in our path.
Among the many epiphanies the main character realizes, the girl named Lamentations sees exactly what the world needs in order to truly heal. Just as humanity was birthed in a perfect place, Eden will only return when all humanity has died and merged with the natural world. It gives new meaning to "the fall of man." This also begins her crisis of faith, as she struggles with her inner voice.
The girl, in her lengthy solitude, ruminates over what truths can be known. She concludes that the earth holds fast to the memories of everything that happens on it, and to it. To win, to succeed, is not to master, to dominate nature, but rather to submit, to live in harmony with all other life. That is the secret all of humanity missed, or at least refused to accept.
Unless we see ourselves as one with the natural world, rather than separate or even superior to it, we will not endure. Lamentations decides that harmony is our only hope for redemption. #books#BooksWorthReading#LaurenGroff#TheVasterWilds
Okay, kids, it's FRIDAY! So whatcha reading this weekend? 📚😎📚
I've got a load of new books to read. I don't even know where to start. A friend gifted me a copy of the graphic novel Black Hole, by Charles Burns, so probably that and another graphic novel Flights, which has like six volumes, and somehow I'm starting with vol. 2. edited by Kazu Kibuishi. And I plan to fit in The Vaster Wilds by the incomparable Lauren Groff.
❤📚❤ @bookstodon#books#BooksWorthReading
@bookstodon I just read and thoroughly enjoyed the graphic novel SOLID STATE, by Jonathan Coulton, Matt Fraction, and Albert Monteys.
My full review:
I loved every panel of this comic which satirizes many things: the invasiveness of data mining and of the surveillance state, the absurdity of rigidly enforced conformity, the dangers of both AI and megalomaniacal overreach, and the suppression of individuality and imagination. It's clever, funny, and well-done. It is also a team effort with many contributors.
This sings to my spirit, which every day tells me that I don't have to be like everyone else. I mean, cheese and beans, this was fun! #GraphicNovel#books#BooksWorthReading
@bookstodon Notable new book releases in the US for September 12, 2023:
The Free People's Village, Sim Kern. [Alt history where Al Gore won and we combatted Climate Change.]
Rouge, Mona Awad. [The author of BUNNY has created a gothic horror fairy tale? Yes, please.]
This Country: Searching for Home in (Very) Rural America (GN), Navied Mahdavian. [Creating cultural identity via that delicate dance of learning to belong]
The Vaster Wilds, Lauren Groff. [What if the power to break settler colonialism, and to learn to live in a new way, were simply a matter of inspiration?]
A Market of Dreams and Destiny, Trip Galey. [What if granting each of your desires were merely a matter of price, at a very special underground market?]
Peach Pit: Sixteen Stories of Unsavory Women, Molly Llewellyn, ed. [Honestly, the title sold me.]
The Death I Gave Him, Em X. Liu. [Queer retelling of Hamlet.]
The Best Short Stories 2023: The O. Henry Prize Winners, Lauren Groff, ed.
Normal Rules Don't Apply, Kate Atkinson. [The rule should be that we always read Kate Atkinson. Eleven interconnected stories.]
Rez Ball, Byron Graves. [I'm hearing rave reviews about this heart-tugging YA tale of a First Nations teen trying to live up to legendary dreams.]
Those Pink Mountain Nights, Jen Ferguson. [Stand-out contemporary YA author gives us a lesson in how we all need each other.]
Hemlock Island, Kelley Armstrong. [Locked room mystery, the island version, with a bit of paranormal thrown in.]
@bookstodon Are you in the mood to read something which plays with form and style? HANGMAN, by Maya Binyam might be for you. It is one of those novels where you both wonder what the heck is going on, and where in the world you're headed, until it all comes together. I really enjoyed it, like nothing else I've read this year. And it's under 200 pages.
My full review: This novel is deftly, smartly written, and demonstrates a paradox about the nature of life itself, which is that it is equally obscured when the lens is too wide, as it is when the lens is too close to its subject.
The story is told via the narrator's journey, but that's not really the heart of this story. The author's delivery has a funhouse, "there but not there," stretched and surreal feel. There are very real observations, however, and they are all deeply political. It's like a mashup of Kathryn Davis and Helen Oyeyemi books, with an even deeper level of social commentary.
I enjoyed the experimental nature of this short, but impactful novel.
And that ending?!? I'm so glad I didn't put it together until the last minute.
This book satisfied my need for something completely different, where the author takes chances. I will gladly read anything Maya Binyam writes.
After Elizabeth & her best friend buy a bed and breakfast in Maine, bodies fall under unusual circumstances. Can our heroines fight a curse killing everyone in sight?