redfoxandice

[redfoxandice]

The Mysterious Affair At Syles: 3/5

My first Agatha Christie! And surprisingly apparently her debut detective novel too! Obviously I have heard of her and her works, yet my detective knowledge sadly stops at Sherlock Holmes, Matthew Scudder (somehow, I started from 8 million ways to die, A Walk Among the Tombstones Iis my favourite I think - I love Elaine...), a little bit of Philip Marlowe (I'm so proud of myself for remembering this name but not knowing how to spell it, lol), some Higashino Keigo (not really detective...) and other Japanese authors etc... not too much of a "try to solve these yourself!" style of detetive novels I dare say, at least not as much as this one, which according to the introduction was produced at a challenge from Agatha's sister on writing a book where the reader would have the same clue as the detective, but still won't be able to solve the crime. And let me tell you did I not solve the crime, damn it. Fell for nearly every single purposeful misleading clue.

Written very much of a Holmes and Watson style, you have your clueless Mr. Hasting wondering around helping the Belgium detective Mr. Poirot, talking in English so Britain I had to look up a word every two sentences (come a cropper?? Cynosure?? Acquiesce?!?!). There were diagrams drawn and letters reproduced, I was very impressed and naturally prompted to try to solve it myself.

The story was relatively straightforward, somewhat similar to Knifes Out #1, and a murder mystery I played with friends. Small mysteries I was able to solve, but of course I missed the big one all together. Generally good, but again a lot of casual thrown-away slight creepyness from the main character to literally every available women around them. "I spent the night dreaming about Mrs. Cavendish", dude, weird. Also dude just proposed to Cynthia. Why?? Come on man. Also, Mary seemed quite ready to leave her husband, yet somehow Mr. Poirot was dedicated to keep them together, "a woman's happiness", mind your own business please.

Overall it did ignite my ego in the sense that I want to read more to prove myself that I am good at deduction (allegedly). I have quenched that fire by telling it off. No more detective stories, no more competitiveness. Thank you.

[redfoxandice]

Tang Zhen Story: Obsessive Nighmare: 1.5/5

Didn't know how this one even have a proper Engish title, god it was a bland read. A story as old as time: an eunic coming back from the palace with a twisted mind of being slaved and made fun of for so long, so he wants to enslave everyone else! A daughter whose mom ran away from home so she's obsessed at finding her, ruining her "beauty" in the process! A poor boy who has no back bone was interested in her but no longer when she turned ugly trying to find her mom! A dad who was so obsessed in revenge he sold his soul! ...never can you find so stereotypical characters and bland delivery! There is no room for imagination, everything the charatcer think is dictated straight after their dialogue. Come on man, I think we can get the subtext without you spelling it out? Blended with the casual but classic "if a woman is ugly she is useless" take, it's just yet another mediocre story carrying the sexist mark of the time period.

There were some mildly interesting bits, like how the dad and the eunic was chanting something before they murdered people or got people to listen to them - witchcraft? Cult? Nope, never explored again. Just creppy stuff they do. A ranomd foreigner entered the town tried to preach, what did they do? Made the town people eat his meat. Why??? No reason, dude just wants to be cruel. Oh wait, turns out he was bullied and mistreated in the palace, what a surprise! Aw man!

There seemed to be no consistent theme, no real twist, and oh no point in a lot of plot introduced I think. Felt a little animal farm, but that was never explroed. I tried so hard to deduce some messages, but every idea I came up with seem to be too complicated for this book. Will not be reading the sequels :) Time to go to another library for my Chinese drops

[redfoxandice]

12 books so far this year, with almost half a year past.

Somewhat proud of myself, but still am scared of setting a tangible goal - like "read 24 books this year" - in case I fail to meet it. It has been so long that I worked towards a goal, or even having a goal. I was never the type to strive for something, to set something and to go for it, to achieve - things often happened because they have to happen. Study, job, visa, trips, friends - I had not set a goal, a location, and see myself travel over, with effort, with sweat and tears. Even with hobbies I am hesitant to push myself, afriad of what will come out of it - nothing, probably. Nothing. What is the point of achieving something anyway? Will it make money? Help with your career? Make your life better? Maybe make you happier? Maybe because of this, I feel like I am barely moving forwad based on momentum, not drive.

[redfoxandice]

Son of Sin: 3/5

And straight onto the next one. Another interesting read, I started as always by googling a bunch of words (like haram and harem, dumbass me) and going down rabbit holes understanding the culture beforehand. It was fun, and that's what picking random books off libraries gives you - perspectives, cultures, ideas.

I liked the book, though I also took my time with it. It was borrowed with Friday Black but was only finished now. "Immigrant", "queer Muslim", somehow just never got me interested - all these labels, you can almost see how the stories is going to unfold. Yet it did not fold in the shape I expected, and hence the good reading experience. Still an amature of writing style, I just think any book that I cannot predict is a good book.

And this was. I very much liked how it read so personal and so down-to-earth, even with all the recalling, the dreamy recounts, jumps in timeline, all the use of foreign words, the conversation, the names...it really did draw me in, make me feel like I was there. In between all the trauma, seeing all the tangled relationship, seeing my brother kneeling, getting arrested on the curb by the cops...it was real, somehow the author made it so real.

The only part that was hard to go through was the part where Jamal went to Turkey. Somehow that did not interest me much, the excursion, the father-son dynamic, the two men standing on the balcony doing nothing, the lost protag finding himself. That was the part that I felt the least, but I was also glad that Jamal is growing up and moving forward - at least moving out of being a helpless and quiet teenager.

The further growth, the reconciliation, was also done expertly and in a way that was not too artificial, somehow. Not like a personal development arc, like a fantasy protag being given a new label. It felt organic, and I was glad that he was pulling himself out of the hole that he help dug.

Great cultural blast for me as well, to see the struggle and the cycle, immigrant but with vastly different background and challenged from me, has always been eye-opening and contributing to my emphathy. The more you understand, the more you can imagine, the more you can open yourself.

[redfoxandice]

Chain-Gang All-Star: 3/5

And here we are, again, producing a review several weeks late after the read. After the sickness, the sadness, the fog reigning in my head, the guilt grabbing my heart. The laughter ringing in my ear.

Chain-Gang was an interesting read, again bearing the same sin as the previous book it was far too literal - I semi-enjoyed the footnotes at the start, but it grew old and finger-pointing, "in case you didn't know......". Lots more imagery going on though, (somewhat) visceral descriptions, interesting characters, predictable storyline - three mentions of how Thurwar felt "thankful" that she and Staxx are on the same chain really did a good job foreshadowing how they are going to fight each other soon, I've read enough manga and anime to know this, come on.

The fight was, gonna say, somewhat disappionting in the way that it was vague. My take is that Thurwar killed Staxx, but I guess it doesn't matter that much. I somewhat actually appreciated that they did not find an easy way out like manga and anime, or even hunger games, instead of actually facing each other, they always seem to find a way to cheat. To escape. To be able to avoid it because they know the audience didn't actually want to see or read them tear each other apart. Yet Chain-Gang went ahead with it, and for that I hold respect.

The part that affected me the msot has got to be influencing. Simon and how he was broken by repeated abuse, and the doctor with her invention. The doctor's story could easily become its own short stories, that was probbaly the best-written section of the whole book. I think my personal fear - apart from the boring fear of the uncanny valley - has got to be the ability to reduce human to animals. To rip off the basic humanity of someone. To render someone unhuman, to remove the respect - that I really cannot stand to the point that I physically recoil from it.

On the other hand I didn't see too much of a point of the Scorpion singer and Simon - they told their stories, and then they died. Though I guess that is how this bloody fairytale goes, people murdering their own people, while the priveleged watch and enjoy. One does not simply walk out of Omelas.

The writing style still bores me, everything is too literal, too obvious, too specific - I need something dreamy, poetic, flowy. Not saying it's bad, just saying it's not for me. Still, I read like I was sprinting. Partially because it was intriguing, partially because I wanted to get started on another book. I find it hard to start multiple at once, i am weirdly stubborn like that.

In short, the small expedition for this author has ended and sadly I don't think I will be exploring more of their work, but at least this was an interesting read - and a good discussion on abolition.

[redfoxandice]

Friday Black: 2.5/5

Really churning these out today as I have been not too busy to read, but too busy to write. Such is always the case, it is much easier to intake than export, take than give, ingest than produce. I remember reading an instagram post / infographic, about how you must take in enough information for you to be able to produce something meaningful, something off all the knowledge, the words and numbers you have accumulated. On the other hand, when you try to produce without that input, often the words hang hollow. It was an instagram post so the validity is always doubtable, yet it did stuck with me. I used to be full of ideas and stories that I will lay in bed and imagine my hand typing on the exact words, yet now I run empty no matter how many pages I put in me. I am slightly embarrassed to admit this, having been hailed often as the one who write within my group, but I guess sadly other priority took over, work and life and growing roots in foreign soil. It had worked and probably have changed the trajectory of my family, yet it has also drained me, drew the spring of creativity from me to water the productivity, into GDP, into practical efficiency. Now I lay in bed and think of projects, of pay rise, of the slippery totem poll and how hard I am holding it and what I let go to climb higher.

Anyway, so the book! ...was not that great. I was (perhaps shamefully) proud of reading with more diversity (though I always believe the end of diversity is no more diversity, is that reading a range of books from a range of authors with a range of background is no longer a thing to be boasting about), picking this up as the first "young Black US author" that I have read. Well, I picked up Chain-Gang All-Stars first, saw the recommendation for Friday Black, and grabbed it too. The former I am working through now.

I appreciate the themes and I admit that I really don't know exactly it is going in the US, and I did enjoy (well, maybe not enjoy, but lied) The Finklestein 5, the absurdity of it all.

That's...about all the good I can say about it. I am struggling to appreciate the writing style, the prose. This is something I have been thinking: I like the theme, the message, to be nicely wrapped up like a gift, a puzzle, a map. Something that you have to decode, to understand, to ruminate over, to pack and unpack and over and over. The fun never ends, the feeling of self-made discovery, the pride, the awe. That's probably why detective novel is so popular these days, people love to "solve" things! And I am still people. Sadly, Nana Kwame does not package his message. I am not saying that a message needs to be packaged, I am saying that ultimately there is two fold to art: message, and the delivery. The message is up there, but the delivery...is honestly not that interesting. And we are, after all, packaging it into a book. Saying these because many, many people think that if the message is holy, no criticism shall come towards it, otherwise you are a prvileged a-hole :) I do not stand by that, I think we can critique the art form independently from its message. Plus, if you really want to convey your message, there are so many other ways you can do so, like actually protesting. If you are using art, then you shall succumb to the chains that come with.

But yeah, in writing there are not that much depth to it - everything is immediately obvious. The shoe-looker, the gene-edited to be power-hungry, the systematic racism, I get it, but is this it? I am sadly uninterested and did not really finish the book.

Chain-Gang is so far a lot more engaging, but still you get these footnotes that are a reminder of real life. Fair enough, I found it informative learning the facts, but surely this can be tied into the story? Or presented in a way that is less preachy? Or the constant, obvious hint that "ohh it's so lucky they are on the same chain, they don't have to fight each other", seeing that about three times per page REALLY tells you that this is going to change, like, pronto.

I'll leave commentary on Chaing-Gang by itself, so far I am not really that impressed.

[redfoxandice]

Bitter Orange Tree: 4.5/5

The first Omani woman, Jokha Alharthi, whose work has been translated to English, this is such a treat to be read. Poetic, beautiful prose interlaces with recurring and dreamy metaphors, how words should be stringed like a kite so they can be retrieved, how this led to a smooth transition to the people around her, the words they have said, whether they regret the inability to pull that string back, or do they simply go on with their lives without considering it. It is too easy to be stuck in this book, navigating its wandering directions, between Bint Amir, the main character, the friends around her, her emotions, her family...I was more gliding than reading, through the memoir, the stories, I always loved how Middle East authors tell the tales with a religious sincerity. Like in the House of the Mosque, a book I encountered mid-travel in the small town in Xinjiang, where they recited the Qu'ran and made the ants go away - the first chapter - so absurd, yet so vivid and beautiful. Like Peter Pan they say it with such devotion. The boy who cannot be bitten by scorpion. The tree that died when Bint Amir passed. The rites. The ceremonies. It was beautiful. The depiction of how she has taken care of them all, landless, without saving, and how they have all left her alone in the end, in eternal darkness without her sight, hit so deeply home. How do we honor our elders? How do we even know they life they lived? We, living far away from home, adopting new idioms, new traditions, have left the old world, old family behind. I love the Dynamite, who has simply stopped by the grasp of a terrible man and subsequently his death. Her grandmother, who has not loved but yet has been married to two old men, was finally cared for by her grandfather. The father was not as lucky, his love and devotion went to someone too wild to be living in a house with walls. But also finally we have the full picture, the family before everything went wrong, before Bint Amir and her brother were kciekd out of the house, barely teenagers, where she was the head of the children's group, and her father the handsome equestrian, before he fell from the sun, before the war. Everything, how it should be, her braided hair swinging in the wind.

Not too much to say about it, I really loved how it read, the stories behind, the Omani landscape, and especially how smoothed the stories merged together, how natural it was, a recount, a series of dreams. The only comment I would have is that the stories of the current world, the love triangle around her, did not really add too much to the story. I was far more invested in the Bint Amir chapters. However, some really lovely descriptions were written, like how Zuhr's spirit was hanging off Imran's shirt button, and the main character, dreaming of her own spirit also dangling there, jumping over Zuhr's spirit, falling into his chest. It didn't add much depth to the story, but the prose was simply lovely.

A great read, if anything I will be borrowing some of the imageries. Really want to try to read her other novels now.

[redfoxandice]

Bright I Burn: 2/5

This is about the first review that I starting writing without even finishing the book. I was almost going to rate this one as a 1, but it was surprisingly not worse off than the ten stories's bottom-licking, this one at least had some artisticness to it. But hell the artisticness is about all it had, I was doubting my taste so much I looked up reviews on goodread and was happy that I was somewhat echoed by people - not completely mad...though I did vehemently opposed some comments about Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, those people don't know what they are talking about! And maybe neither do I.

This is a book that promised witch literature (whatever that might mean), "a woman with power is a woman to be feared", and about a woman "who dared to carve her own space in a man's world". The book delivers none of these.

Almost half way through the book already and I am seeing no witch, except the use of herbs (as poison), which is not prevalent nor the main character's strength even, she was portrayed as a banker, a lender, rich and rotten, outliving all her husband. I can see how the book might be going down the way of "a smart / powerful woman will be smeared as a witch", but just wait a minute...because for this twist to be believable she must first be smart / rich / powerful. She was described to be one, but the buildup was as thin as the pages of the book. Never discussion of HOW she learnt the work, how she was able to lend more than others, or after she got married, HOW they built their riches - unimportant, insignificant, why would the audience need to know how she got good? They just need to believe! She is just that good!

And the reason for the scarce descriptions of her accumulation of skills and customers seems to be that it wants to focus on her desire. Not material, carnal. I have no issue acknowledging or exploring this, but the book did it in a way so bland and atrocious I felt like I was reading bad romance novel. And honestly, is that how she "carve her own space in a man's world"? By letting them carve into her?? Turns out she is able to broke more deals by playing the game and being an "alluring female banker"? wtf?? And at the age of 14, half of Ireland already wants her, three people actively pursuing her...am I reading Twilight???

Not only is she playing the game (aka getting money by flirting with men), this desire of her is also leading into sin - not carnal pleasure, boo, but murdering her husband because she wants to be with someone else?? Like, you acknowledge and accept that you are "sinning" by wanting pleasure, but suddently it is not ok to cheat?? Because you are scared of beign found out?? So you murder the husband instead?? Like, what? How is this ok or feminist at all? Satisfying ourselves is the first and foremost priority, and everything and everyone else must give way? Is this really the message that we are putting out there?

And she goes through her four prominent pursurer - for money, lust, love, and something else (haven't read that part yet) (turns out it's her turn to be strong-armed), but also always for herself - oh no, and her son :) because she hates her daughter whom she killed because she's ugly (??), and her husband's daughters because she wants the money to be her sons (???), and other people's wives because they get in the way of her marrying them (????).

What a feminist icon!

If I am a bit more cynical I can probably see this in the same vein as Interlocking Traps by Eileen, but I fail to see this as the author seems to take this so seriously, as is everyone singing praises of it - liberating your desire (by killing off old and useless husband who no longer serves your purpose)! But, if it was a male protag, then we would be reading a crime novel where he would most definitely be hunted down, won't we? Why are we celebrating women abusing others? Is women in power the synonym of pain of others, just like men in power?

On top of all this, there is not much of a reason why she is so self-centered - ego, personality, sure, but that is coincidental and shallow of a reason. I am aware that she is not to be liked (an "anti-protag") and I am not trying to like her, but that is not the same as waving off everything she does.

Edit:

Finished the book and to be honest my opinion towards it recovered a fair bit. Though I did only start to get it towards the very end, how it is supposed to illustrate "men has one hard path but it leads to success, while women has many easy choices but they leads to...something else", I can't find the original quote by Beauvoir. I see that and I see that fiercely, but I only saw that when she found the lady (forgot her name...) as she found joy and love, and she was crushed as the lady was under her husband. I felt the anger, the disbelieve. I also remembered how she thought that if William would marry her, how different would she be. I guess this is not a book about how women with their wits are able to make their own history, but how women without their sense of self can be exploited by the patriarchial world. Yet still I felt this could be better conveyed, perhaps introduced earlier, but it is also what it is.

[redfoxandice]

The Secret of Life: 4.5/5

Phew, finally finished this one! A "hard SF" as the introduction tells me, though it also nonchalantly talks about how it made him feel smarter after reading it, alongside common language designed to pique interest in the book. Really? It is the same publisher (SF masterwork) as Ursula K Le Guin's work, of which great forewords were written, but I suppose it could have been a different reviewer. For some reason I imagined it to be a private collection of one person, a SF fanatic, eagerly introducing each pieces they gathered across time and space. Nope.

It did put a damp start on the book, but it soon exceeded expectations - great story, interesting world, actions, and a lady protagonist that actually gets to have casual sex which is included and briefly described in the book. Phenomenal. No, it's not sarcasm, what was the last book you read that has the female main character having sex with someone that's not her husband / long-term boyfriend, WHILE having had a dead husband? Breaking boundaries since 2001, girls are allowed to have fun.

On top of this very impressive point, it was indeed hard SF (which every time I type sounds like something that is NSFW) with a focus in biology and biengineering, which is not a field that I dabbled with much in real life or in fiction, so there were a lot of interesting points to be taken in. It had a nice balance between science fiction and politics, power struggle, gender issues (men are even more outwardly misogynists, crazy), and of course sustainability, patents and people with alternative lifestyles. I especially enjoyed the last point with the book's mirage of communities living how they'd like, in the desert, in modern America. It's showcased a range of them, each with characteristics and flaws but always with community. In that sense it is beautiful to see.

Was not expecting the level of actions either, people died?! In a book about science?! And hey some nice mentions of China, always fun to see what white people write about us.

The plot is overall interesting with a good argument on megacompany monopolying over everything and patent and close-source them for profit, very fitting for real life too. Cunning design of something that can never be patented.

There are parts of the book that dragged a bit, probably due to the ample use of terminologies that I can't be bothered looking up every two words, and some trips down memory lane that I didn't care very much. The entire part in Mexico was a bit extra, but I guess you need a bridge. Also Anchee, my baby girl!!

And the end was not the strongest in the world, but it is ok. The development with Anchee's husband got me a bit scared there, probably too much Japanese literature.

Overall a good read, I am a SF nerd afterall and did not realise that I needed a fix. And it was, indeed, a great fix.

[redfoxandice]

The Night Tiger: 4/5

Finally, a longer novel, a fiction that isn't too full on, a sense of familiarity with the setting in historical Malaysia. I feel like I am getting old for fiction where a new name for absolutely everything ever in existance is about the only new invention. Yet they are always "best selling books" (according to my last airport trip, so might not be accurate).

The night tiger easily draws you into its charming little world in old Malaya, where it got me furiously spelling Chinese words (not very good with the Cantonese spelling), nodding along to superstitous numbers and acts (4 is bad but 8 is good, always interesting to me how from a mathematical perspective double bad is good), and falling for the adorable characters. I enjoyed the "set of virtue" concept (again took a while to get it in Chinese), and discovered that I love romance by hoping Shin & Ji Lin would end up together, come on me I thought I was better than that (said someone who finds a couple to ship in every anime). Again it was so hard to not think of Ji Lin the Chinese provience whenever I saw her name! It's Zhi Lin in Chinese. (I'm not complaining, just think it's funny.)

I loved the past Westerners are running away from in their colonial turf, and the struggle the children face in a traditional household. Just a very pleasant and interesting read overall.

Few criticism - the biggest one of all, the ending feels rushed, the twist at the end was not that hard to figure out, and the biggest quest of the book finished without much of a bang, while another smaller mystery almost killed like two major character. It feels a bit unbalanced and abrupt, essentially undoing a lot of the suspence built up previously. The whole weretiger thing turned out to be nothing? It was never confirmed whether he was a weretiger or not, but also it didn't matter because someone else was doing all the killing? And the twise with Li just didn't seem like it had much to do with the plot so far except to explain the death, but without the death the story would go on just fine. Though it did remind me of that Miku song, the Lazyness of the seven vice (sorry, some people are weretiger, and I am a weeaboo). It really felt like William didn't have to die, what was the point of that? To show that Ren betrayed his virtue as well, even though accidentally? I was hoping that there will be a small salvation, maybe the set will learn to be better, but I guess not.

Secondly, there are a few sparring comments that maybe suited the time it was set in, but will not stand in modern life. "A woman's chasity is her best treasure", urgh. Or the talk about "making you mine", feeling a bit r*py, my dude? And my beautiful main charatcer just blushed?? Feels like she is rebillious EXCEPT after the fell in love, but I guess she was supposed to not be intelligent according to the setting. Especially since she vowed not to marry, hates her stepfather for his controlling demeanor and does things her way, in the end it feels like she is just another female character falling hopelessly in love and doesn't have much agency anyway. Again, hoping for a bit more development here, a bit more thought, salvation, or at least realisation, but not much was given and some were accepted in silence.

Sadly those made it a 3.5-4 out of 5, giving that the first like 3/4 of the book was great, I went with a 4. The story was great to read and I am definitely looking to read more of the author.

[redfoxandice]

Hospital: 3.5/5

This is perhaps the first noval / recount / bio that I have read of someone about their mental condition - actually, that is not correct, I have read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. Very different style and topic though. It is immensely interesting to see the thoughts of them, though I cannot agree with the wondering of sanity as I see the compulsion and some lack of social awareness, but on the other hand it could just be me not understanidng her. After all, she is speaking her own language, and it is up to others to understand it.

"You didn't assert yourself with a 'I want this', you reacted keeping in mind what someone else in the situation was wanting or may want." I liked that, and the afterwards "You maintain a distance from [bird and animals] because you don't know what they want from you, and whether you can or want to give it to them." I sometimes feel uneasy around people I cannot read in my way as well, or cannot find a way to connect with them, help them, or know what they want.

The start of the book was a little dry (or maybe I was being judgemental towards her and her mental state since I do not understand), but later on, in the hospital, surprisingly (to me at least) a community bloomed. I liked the first person narrative, making it less like One Fly over the Cuckoo's Nest (which was never the intention), but more of a gathering of information and knowledge, fostering a deeper understanding of others and oneself.

"How come I didn't see you?

You weren't looking for me."

Even something like this was beautiful.

Later in the book the focus on language came through - how we deliver our thoughts through languages, how language evolves from describing literal objects to intangible objects to thoughts and ideas, and how conversations shapes minds. I enjoyed and agreed with Sanya's idea of conversations with patients instead of asking them to take pills, I thought it is being done but maybe the book was describing an earlier era.

Overall an interesting read, for me who has never visited a psychiatric ward, the descriptions and her experiences are immensely interesting and eye-opening. A good blend between story and discussion.

[redfoxandice]

夜谭十记（Ten Tales at Night）:1.5/5

The premise was great and the movie spun out from it was great in my memory too (Let the Bullet Fly), the use of Si chuan dialect and old words are entertaining and good for my dwindling Chinese vocabulary, but by God the seeping bias towards the time period and the people in power was unbearable. Sakes, the author even went through the Revolution himself, and coming out of it singing bright red songs?? Is he unable to realise that, all the antagnoists, the rich, the powerful, the lustful, the ones that take, are not limited to the people in that time - in fact, are now infinitely more applicable to the people in power right now? Or is he simply double thinking, doing what we do the absolute best? Hard to tell, at some point I think all the Winstons are unable to tell themselves, having convinced themselves.

The stories are but of the same template, the poor bullied by the rich, yet all those with lands are automatically opressing, all those officials wants nothing but money, and of course the only salvation lies in the party of the people. There is zero depth in any of the characters, the stories are the same, and don't even try to talk about women rights when half of them pity on those unable to produce male offsprings. The first two stories are at least interesting with the plot and the twists, but the rest are just attempting to paint how low-lifes are struggling under the government and loning for revolution, the same shit people have been trying to sell for ages, nope, not buying it.

In stark contrast with Wives and Concubines, both set in a similar time period (with Wives and Concubines slightly later, I believe), yet in Wives and Concubines, people have actual ideas, characters, and life, they live, according to their own beliefs, restricted by the socirty or not.

Another book that I did not finish, the irony is quite hard to ignore. Perhaps I'll enjoy it more, subbing the time period and the people and the names and the one they look up upon.

[redfoxandice]

妻妾成群 (Wives and Concubines) : 4.5/5

Also known as Raise the Red Lantern, as the first story was famouly adapted. Never watched, nor did I know this fact, when I find books to read in the library I always read the synapse and flick through the pages. At the time I put this book down, but I kept thinking about it. The second trip it came back with me, just like the good old courting steps, but for a courtesan, not a proper lady, as it only took me two visits. Just like the women inthe book.

I absolutely loved every stories - this edition has three, Wives and Concubines, Rough (红粉) and Gardening (园艺). Surprisingly I found myself loving Rough more than Wives and Concubines even. The story of the two women, one always defiant but often defeated by fate, and the other, so lost, so scared, but also so stuck in her own way that she grabs onto whatever she could - men, women, people...that she betrayed her best friend, that she sucked him dry and spitted him out and rinse and repeat, not knowing any other way to live. But her, her friend, despited and disregarded and detached from life, was living so strongly yet so painfully. Kicked out by her lover's mother, not even accepted at the Buddist temple, she married off someone old, ugly, but at least nice, and finally has her own quiet life...until she came and bestowed upon her the baby.

What can women do? What are women? Like Songlian said in Wives and Concubine, "I don't understand what kind of things women are. They are like dogs, like cats, like goldfishes, like rats, like everything but human". The young master who is scared of women in a family of four wives; the Chinese opera singer who loudly lives her life and sleep with who she wants, sinked into the depth; the young student whose family business collapsed, who married the master of the house as the fourth wife, who loved, was loved, was treated, was given the cold shoulder, and was eventually thrown away like she threw her sanity away, in the society that eats everyone, especially women.

It really reminded me of Eileen Zhang's work, the distinctive descriptions of the time period, the word choices, the scenes. The large family house, littered with flowers and trees and wells to bury women committed adultry. The new streets after revolution, the two slim, pretty, yet poor girls with nowhere to go. I still remember how after making up her mind, Qiuyi walked up and down the street, finding someone special to buy her first night. Except people in Eileen's novel loved, but people in Su Tong's novel only did what they know to do. It's less of a discussion through relationship. Though I do love Eileen's work, still haven't finished Half a Lifelong Romance, the characters just started their relationship, yet knowing Eileen I don't think they are going to have a good ending...

Again, got a bit off track. greate short stories, will have to see if I can fidn any more of Su Tong's work.

[redfoxandice]

Old Babes in the Woods: 2/5

My first Margerat Atwood, wow! Sadly not a very impressive one, a collection of short stories of diverse topics, that "dissects the human heart easily", but was cutting mine like a table knife in a Chinese pantry - nonexistent. (Yes, I don't have any knife or fork in my home, lol)

Most of them are tepid, seeming more like recounts than stories. I did like the one with two old men as friends, one grumpy and the other joyous, with his life's work. The meeting of the three women being cancelled is mildly funny, and the rewrite of King Author for a dead cat is cute. The few somewhat sci-fi stories I enjoyed, including the alien story teller, and Free For All I enjoyed very much (the only story that I remember by name...). The rest flew through my brain like water off an ameoba. Maybe my brain has been hard-wired (or perhaps short-circuited) to read sc-fi and fantasy only. Without no exaggeration what's the point of a story?

Was wondering around bookstores at the airport waiting for the flight. Still so many fantasies, with repeated themes, borrowed country names, perhaps mildly different world setting, but lots of secret and enemies and love and dragon and the like. Why can't we write about something else? Why can there be no secret? No dying love? No enemy turned lover? Start with a person, with connection, with discussion, not with a vague world and "high-octane non-stop actions".

I still think I haven't read enough Englihs literature to tell good from bad writing. Yet still I know at least that Ursula K. Le Guin writes like no others...the discussions in The Left Hand of Darkness! What does it mean to love a country?

As usual I like to go off topic, but I'll leave it at that. All hail sci-fi.

[redfoxandice]

The Memory Police: 2.5/5

Boy oh boy am I reading again like never before, since I am but derived of gigantic bookshelves of home, the only sustainable way of reading is downloading ebook and visiting library. Ebooks have proved to be finicky at best as I find myself having trouble focusing, wanting to scroll infinitely and getting annoyed at the same font size yielding different meaning for Chinese and English characters and having no way to customise them across books. So here we go, back to the library, at the holiday season, while charging my little power bank.

There isn't much of a method, I go to the recommended shelves where the books can really show off their cover art and handwritten notes of affirmations. The order goes: known author - interesting cover - synapse at the inside of the cover or at the end - flipping to a random page and see if I am intrigued. The last often works better for Chinese books than English ones, I am still developing a taste in the latter and it is still infinitely easier to read in Chinese. I am somewhat proud that this method was able to land a few books that, unknowing by me, have won major awards or adapted to famous movies (e.g. Raise the Red Lantern, Let the Bullet Run, The Name of the Rose...), not that I really watched all of them, or think so highly of awards, but I like the feeling that my choice is distinguished, like rich people like to buy the most expensive things because they can.

So The Memory Police came to me, because of a somewhat interesting setting, and Yoko Ogawa being an author I kept hearing of but never read. "She has won every major Japanese literature award" they say, though I feel like she is not as well-known as many Japanese male writer, such is the phenomenon of the society.

The writing was soft, gentle, delicate, as I expected from Japanese writings. I still have this bias that Chinese would preserver the original meanings of the work better than English, as the two languages are infinitesimally closer (one is stemmed from the other, some would say). I would read the English verses, and imagine those words, but in Japanese, and then in Chinese, especially when the main character was writing in the character blocks, something I used to be so familiar with in school.

The story overall was a bit bland, though also somewhat in line with Japanese works of late. A lot more "piece of life" works with no great tension or grand schemes. I am not against them, especially when mystery, thriller, and murder works are everywhere (Keigo Higashino I'm looking at you). Yet this one was a bit too quiet, too daily, maybe because my palate has grown used to cold irony or flashy sci-fi works. I found myself digging for deeper meanings, for symbolisms, metaphors, or reflection of recent events. Yet I think the story is all there is, a woman trapping her editor in the room, with all the things that refuses to disappear, and therefore trapping herself within it.

The cover talks about power of memory and trauma of loss, yet neither was strongly discussed. There were pensive wonders of what old memory could do for you when eventually they will disappear. The distance between the main character and her editor was due to this viewpoint. For her, lost things have no meaning and could be tossed in fire. For him, lost things stirs great memories and must be preserved forever. I am of the opinion that it is natural for things to be forgotten and for new things to be invented to fill the gaps, but the whole setting of the book prevents it, so not much of a discussion could come from it. Maybe the focus was on the inevitablity of loss, yet for me when it is so inevitable as depicted in the book, then there is no use.

There were depictions of the memory police, even their headquarters, but that is simply that. They serve as a menace, a looming force taking things away, loss that you cannot control. Not really 1984 though, as the disappearing is not (might not be) a induced phenomenon. The novels within the novel was interesting, I enjoyed drawing some connection between the woman trapped in a room and the editor she trapped in the room.

And as customary to most Japanese novels, people fall in love with married men and they cheat on their wife. Fantastic. Does it add much to the story? Not really. Does it sound like Stockholm syndrome? Yep.

It was a relatively quick read, though half way through I already wanted to move on to another book. My info-focused, analytical brain spoiled by sci-fi can no longer really appreciate Kafkaesque writing, I found myself questioning the logic and realisticness behind everything.

I was surprised how old the book was (written in 1994), and according to Goodread, how it was shortlisted for the International Booker Prize for 2020? Is there that big of a lag between published time and prize consideration? How does it even work?

In any case, The Memory Police has failed to impress. Great cover art though.

[redfoxandice]

Cute boys. Cute boys with pointy chin behind small beard, cute boys with chiseled face. Cute boys with gem blue eyes behind glasses. Cute boys with ankle covered in socks between suit pants and boots. Cute boys that reminded me of a past I rarely remember these days, so infrequently visited that the paths have been overrode to unrelated content, to pixelated images, to a last name I struggled to remember. To think that I once know his middle name from just one look of that testamur. To think that I used to want to impress him with who I can do. Well, captive audiences are hard to find, especially ones that are not afriad to heckle and rally for the ticket price's worth.

I was somewhat glad that to find that revisiting this grave did not trigger as much as an ache it used to. It used to kept me up all night, but even the worst pain could be wrangled by lots of sleep and food.

Now the one that could hurt me deeply is not him anymore. Not anymore. That baton has been handed off to someone softer, warmer, with whom I can have a constructive conversation, not a dead silence.

[redfoxandice]

继续读奴隶社会的文章，最近应该是公众号的十周年，发了一些会员的感慨和体会。想这个公众号一开始只是一两个人的努力，后来却影响到了许许多多的人，这也是很神奇的感觉。以前总是给自己定下目标，不要追星，不要把任何人当作偶像，因为偶像必定被神化，既会让自己觉得遥不可及，又会让人无法接受偶像身上的人性。但是看了这么多testimonials，心里还是有些痒。

如果报了所谓的“成长训练营”，我是不是就能成长起来，忘记过去的创伤呢？只要499，包你满意……

不愿意接受自己的平庸，但也不愿意努力去做一些事。想起以前的，初中高中时候的自己，还是在努力地写东西的……有很多自己所享受的事情。现在即���有时间，也已经完全不知道要如何花费了。

需要继续阅读，继续阅读。没有阅读的日子是没有灵感的日子。总有一天会把安子的故事写出来，漆黑羽毛的太阳的女儿，在大都会的人流中穿梭。

总是在想如果能再勇敢一些，人生的轨迹会不会不同？但是即使这样想着，也没有勇气去伸出手。总觉得自己被重重的现实和生活的枷锁套住了，但其中也许很多是自己加于自己身上的。毕竟我们都不是高更，不一定能够抛弃六便士去寻找月亮。

连想象的空间都快要没有了。

记得之前读到的巴虺的牧群和同作者的其他作品，是卫斯理小说般的诡谲古怪，喜欢的很，却又羡慕嫉妒得很。

又想起明朝那些事儿的写作，当年明月如果断更会自愿向读者打报告。

但是连灵感都没有的今天，根本无从下手。即使看过一些三十题二十题，写作指南脑洞建议，该不会的还是不会。