Archive for April 2nd, 2015

April 2, 2015

March Reading

I’ve been bad at reading this last few months but March wasn’t so bad.


Zen Cho, Spirits Abroad: I’m reviewing this elsewhere and will post the piece here when it’s out, but the important revelation that I had about Zen Cho (other than that her work is brilliant comfort reading) is that she reminds me of Joan Aiken. I’m not sure there’s a higher compliment.

Deji Bryce Olukotun, Nigerians in Space: For a review. I will not be counting this in my stats for the year because it’s a reread; it’s worth reminding the world that it’s great, though.

Kavitha Mandana, Nayantara Surendranath, A Pair of Twins: I’ll have a piece on this up in a couple of weeks. Feminism and elephants and excellent art.

Shobha Viswanath, Sadhvi Jawa, An Elephant in My Backyard: I also liked this very much, for reasons that will remain mysterious until next week’s column is republished on the blog.

Danez Smith, [insert] boy: I discovered Danez Smith’s work a few months ago, when Sridala linked me to “Not an Elegy for Mike Brown” (at Split This Rock, but I’m linking to Buzzfeed because that way you also get  “alternate names for black boys”) and was broken by it in the best way. I read this collection in bits over the month and it may not have been the wisest choice for a fragile time, and I’m still trying to work out how to talk about it because I’m quite sure I need to. But you should read it.

Alan Garner, Red Shift: For a Strange Horizons book club discussion (with some of my favourite people) which you can find here.

Haruki Murakami, The Strange Library: I wrote about this here.

Gail Carriger, Prudence (The Custard Protocol): I’m going to have to write something longer on this because it’s set in steampunk-supernatural colonial India and almost does some clever things and then … does so many other things which are not so much “clever” as “terrible”.

Kazuo Ishiguro, The Buried Giant: I’m discussing this elsewhere and will be posting a link when that’s up, but rarely have I seen so many critics so confused by something that doesn’t fit an expected shape. And yet it’s not that strange.