alekz's reviews
66 reviews

I'm giving this 3.5 stars bc the style of writing is one I enjoy - a focus on the little details, philosophical musings, musings on the mundane. But the story itself gets perhaps at most a 2. The plot reads like a story written in a middle school english class in response to a prompt that asks something like "write a story where things aren't as they seem". The characters thoughts and conversations, though, are more of the meat of the book than the actual plot which made it more enjoyable to get through. 

I thought the story was going to grow into something completely different than it did when they were at the parent's house, and it was at that point that i was intrigued. However, the moment they leave the parents' house and go on to the school it was more like. oh. okay. I do however continue to wonder if the entire book was that found beside the janitor in the end, or if the book is his writing (what if i did give her my number and we got together, going even to my parents' house) + a narrator who is noticing the inconsistencies of the book she is written in. Is she noticing the amateur writer's failing to be consistent - the second band aid over the eye, the bandaid now over the toe nail, the painting in a basement without supplies, the indecision of who the narrator is - or is she written by him to be this way? Does this imply that the janitor himself was interested in psychological horror that then acted out the end of? Does it imply he doesn't know himself, having a psychotic break? Why then would he write it out in this way? This is the main thought that lingers.

Critics claiming ‘Dry’ is deeper and more complex than his previous ‘running with scissors’ are a breed of people I do not understand. I have read sharper, I have read more honest, and more lilting memoirs. Burroughs’ writing is honest and with that comes a certain beauty that I am not dense enough to not see, but the praise putting this among other five star books are misplaced. His sharpness becomes too much in the offensive lines thrown in throughout the piece - short anti Semitic and islamophobic quips that any editor should have seen only detract from the credibility of the piece. 

For its daunting length and meandering narrative, i was preparing to slough through the book, but i was pleasantly surprised by just how much i enjoyed it. The writing was right up my alley, the meandering tangents interesting (save for the many many chapters on waterloo which i skipped bc oh my god hugo) the characters were extremely well developed and complex and went through clear growth.

I am not a fan of sci fi at all. But Haig's 'The Humans' is a realistic fiction book about the complexities and beauties of humanity, with the sci fi as an undercurrent that even vehemently anti sci fi folks can love. I have reread this book many many times and cry every time. Haig has such a way with words, writing this lighthearted, funny and heart breaking story with such a gentle prose that you cant look away. His chapter Advice for Humans is a handful of pages i've reread over and over and over again. It is life changing it rearranged my molecules I have suggested this book more than once to everyone I have met. 

Gone Girl the book adds much more dimension to the characters, especially Nick, than the movie. The inclusion of the diary entries between Nick's POV added an interesting element by making you feel like you’re reading not a mystery but just a book about a lady which, if you’re in for that is great, but if you're expecting a book like Sharp Objects you'll be disappointed. The focus of the book is on the unlikable characters and exploring their motivations and how being morally grey (even that may be an understatement) is what makes the characters interesting. Their lack of growth is fascinating to well adjusted people. 

I just finished Ocean Vuong’s ‘On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous’ while on a sunset flight already knee deep in melancholy and thoughts about wabi-sabi: a Japanese appreciation of the transience of life leaving its mark on objects; finding beauty in the cracked and worn. what I like to call mundane art. all this was swimming inside me while I watched the sun set from the wrong side, the one where the sky turns blue to that dusty lavender and then to the indigo that turns black instead of the blue to orange to red to the west, and I read Vuong’s words. And I cannot give them high enough praise. The way this man wields his words is like nothing I’ve ever seen. Not a page goes by without a metaphor that shakes me like a little piggy bank on its back. He weaves his narratives so seamlessly that you watch a metaphor start awake and fall quietly back into an even breathed sleep. The way Vuong writes makes me want to write and more importantly it makes me want to look at the world and see it. The book is a letter that says everything he wants to tell his mother and can’t. The touch of a lover, the color of the sky, the texture of hurt, and i echo these sentiments everyday as I realize that everything I write is for my mother, every picture i take is a moment I wish she could see. Ocean Vuong brings to the smallest moments the same fervor and depth that I do with much more beautiful words and it’s just the most beautiful thing to behold. I’m privileged to read his stories.