Badly articulated, vague thoughts about books!
So, I've been reading some actual books lately! I have thoughts, which I shall present in a rambling, barely literate manner, because that's what I do best.
Book 1: Michio Kaku - Paraller Worlds
It's about cosmology! I fucking love cosmology, because it's so bizarre. There's also a bit of philosophy mixed in, and a very interesting chapter on the choices an intelligent civilisation will have to escape the inevitable heat death of the universe. I really liked it, even though it occasionally got a bit involved in describing different sorts of n-dimensional shapes the universe could be and stuff like that.
Also, even if you don't like nerdy space stuff, I think you should read the final chapter of the book. It's all sorts of inspiring and make science, not war.
Book 2: Robert Hudson - The Kilburn Social Club
So I freely admit I only picked up this book because Robert Hudson lives with David Mitchell. I mean, it's about running a football club. I did end up really enjoying it, though. It's really about growing up and changing, and money, and the lies we tell others and ourselves. Every single narrator is unreliable in their own way, which I really liked. The plot is quite ponderous, but it's more about characters than events. There's also a few painfully clever chapters, football matches narrated by the ball. Those work surprisingly well.
Book 3: David Mitchell (the other one) - Cloud Atlas
The most literary thing I've read in at least a year, I'm ashamed to admit. It's beautifully crafted and really clever, like a puzzle or a hall of mirrors, with everything interconnected and reflecting parts of itself. Also like a Russian nesting doll, all stories within stories.
I have to admit that I'm not entirely sure what the book's actually about. I think it explores elements of truth and knowledge, and belief, and history. Whatever, I liked being taken along for the ride. Mitchell's a hell of a talented writer, with a real knack for creating different voices. I obviously liked some more than I liked others, but there was always a little twist to pull me back in whenever I started to get bored.
I checked into my flight to London earlier today! I'm so fucking excited, even after I learned that while packing five days' stuff and a sleeping bag into a carry-on is technically possible, souvenir-buying will be hugely limited, and London has good bookshops. So I'm not taking the sleeping bag, but using my powers of improvisation and sleeping in below-optimal conditions.
I'm short, have fake-ginger hair and bright-red glasses. I'll be the one looking lost and/or nervous.
Book 1: Michio Kaku - Paraller Worlds
It's about cosmology! I fucking love cosmology, because it's so bizarre. There's also a bit of philosophy mixed in, and a very interesting chapter on the choices an intelligent civilisation will have to escape the inevitable heat death of the universe. I really liked it, even though it occasionally got a bit involved in describing different sorts of n-dimensional shapes the universe could be and stuff like that.
Also, even if you don't like nerdy space stuff, I think you should read the final chapter of the book. It's all sorts of inspiring and make science, not war.
Book 2: Robert Hudson - The Kilburn Social Club
So I freely admit I only picked up this book because Robert Hudson lives with David Mitchell. I mean, it's about running a football club. I did end up really enjoying it, though. It's really about growing up and changing, and money, and the lies we tell others and ourselves. Every single narrator is unreliable in their own way, which I really liked. The plot is quite ponderous, but it's more about characters than events. There's also a few painfully clever chapters, football matches narrated by the ball. Those work surprisingly well.
Book 3: David Mitchell (the other one) - Cloud Atlas
The most literary thing I've read in at least a year, I'm ashamed to admit. It's beautifully crafted and really clever, like a puzzle or a hall of mirrors, with everything interconnected and reflecting parts of itself. Also like a Russian nesting doll, all stories within stories.
I have to admit that I'm not entirely sure what the book's actually about. I think it explores elements of truth and knowledge, and belief, and history. Whatever, I liked being taken along for the ride. Mitchell's a hell of a talented writer, with a real knack for creating different voices. I obviously liked some more than I liked others, but there was always a little twist to pull me back in whenever I started to get bored.
I checked into my flight to London earlier today! I'm so fucking excited, even after I learned that while packing five days' stuff and a sleeping bag into a carry-on is technically possible, souvenir-buying will be hugely limited, and London has good bookshops. So I'm not taking the sleeping bag, but using my powers of improvisation and sleeping in below-optimal conditions.
I'm short, have fake-ginger hair and bright-red glasses. I'll be the one looking lost and/or nervous.