I know the reviews are positive for this novel about a Vietnamese operative sent underground to the US to report on any expat activity that might jeopardise the new regime. And the TV series that followed it.
I didn’t find the story that interesting, the characters compelling enough. What I did enjoy was the clever writing and erudition of the writer, although the passages were much too dense for today’s short attention spans.
Many of you will like this.
Penny takes the series back where it has always belonged, Three Pines. And a Quebec crime instead of international intrigue and dodgy Maguffins. The writing is clever, the word play intriguing.
But Penny can’t leave well enough alone. She has to tie everything into a mysterious international painting. The Three Pines gang are presented as afterthoughts.
The setting is Three Pines, Ms. Penny. “Pines.” As with roots. Stay there. With your roots.
Lehrter Station is the fifth installment in David Downing’s atmospheric and richly detailed “Station” series, which chronicles the adventures of John Russell, an idealistic journalist and amateur spy. Downing’s writing is meticulous and atmospheric, capturing the essence of the time and place with precision. Set in post-World War II Berlin, this novel continues Downing’s tradition of blending historical intrigue with suspenseful espionage. The central narrative follows Russell as he tries to protect his family and friends while uncovering secrets that could have profound implications for the nascent post-war order.
Lehrter Station excels in its portrayal of the chaotic and morally ambiguous world of post-war Berlin. Themes of survival, loyalty, and the murky ethics of espionage are interwoven with historical detail, offering readers a profound sense of the era’s complexities. Certainly near the top of any espionage series I’ve had the pleasure of reading.
An insider’s perspective of the Japanese Adult Video industry by an extremely well-spoken former actress, revealing both the glamorous and the gritty aspects of her profession.
Shibuya, who has shown her numerous talents and abilities in other industries after retiring, uses her personal experiences to shed light on the inner workings, challenges, and cultural nuances of the industry. The book is both a memoir and a detailed exposé, providing readers with an unfiltered look into a world often shrouded in mystery and misconception.
Most people are aware of US President Abraham Lincoln’s assassination shortly after the end of the American Civil War. Not so many are aware of a plot by pro-slavery white supremacists to kill him on his way to his Presidential inauguration in 1861 to prevent him from ever becoming President in the first place.
What was most striking to me was the way the plot echoed the recent American January 6th insurrectionists machinations to stop an incoming President from taking up his legally elected role. What followed that, of course, was a brutal civil war that took more American lives than all other wars up to and including WWII, followed by Lincoln’s actual assassination just days after the Civil War ended.
Does History repeat itself? Rhyme? Just saying.
As for the book itself, I found it somewhat verbose and pedantic, completely bereft of any documentation for its narrative, somewhat unusual for a historical study. I think it would have made a much better historical novel.
Devastating expose of the tower of lies Donald Trump has ridden to wealth and power from his beginnings as a fledgling real estate developer to his ultimate goal of authoritarian dictator of a country seemingly entranced by his mixture of a WWE villain combined with a deranged evangelist preacher.
Res, who worked for Trump for decades as his building developer, unmasks the narcissistic venality behind Trump’s carefully constructed facade resting entirely on greed, corruption and fraud.
The entire book reminds me of the saying, “When someone tells you who they are, believe them the first time around.”
Podoler’s collection of essays examines Japan’s military history and its enduring impact on modern society, starting with an exploration of Japan’s imperial ambitions in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, shedding light on the ideological, political, and economic factors that drove the country’s expansionist policies.
Contributors delve into key historical events, such as the Sino-Japanese War and the Russo-Japanese War, analyzing their significance in shaping Japan’s militaristic ethos and identity. Through case studies and historical analysis, contributors illuminate the ways in which the military permeated various aspects of Japanese society, influencing everything from education and popular culture to gender roles and national identity. By delving into these nuanced intersections, the book offers a more nuanced understanding of the complex relationship between war, militarism, and society in Japan.
Pronzini’s 1890s detectives, Carpenter and Quincannon just don’t do it for me.
Much better to devote your time and money to his infinitely better “Nameless Detective” series.
This is an exquisitely slow-paced allegory of the way authoritarian governments creep into our rights and freedoms so incrementally and inexorably– blurring the boundaries between reality and dystopia — that by the time most people notice it is too late; what we once had is gone.
The Memory Police, with their iron-fisted control over memory, serve as a chilling reminder of the dangers of unchecked power and the ease with which individuals can be manipulated and oppressed. Ogawa deftly examines the psychological toll of living under such a regime, as characters grapple with fear, resignation, and the loss of autonomy.
Don’t think it can’t happen here and now. Don’t think it isn’t already.
If only I had only three problems with Liu Cixin’s novel.
Most prominently is the dense blocks of page after page of complicated science. I have a good layman’s knowledge of astronomy and theoretical physics, but I often found myself skipping through pages that bogged down the narrative arc.
Then there was the early setting of the Chinese Cultural Revolution. Most of us in the West simply don’t have the background to fully understand the massive upheavals that that involved in China’s political narrative. Without that context, the story doesn’t resonate with us the way it does with a native Chinese readership.
Most importantly, for me, was the lack of characters I could identify with. I simply didn’t care about any of them. The only one that mildly attracted me was “Big Shi,” the crude cop with uncanny insight. The rest kind of just merged together, like a mediocre porridge.
Licking Honey Off of Thorns 