WeBuzz

Reader discussion: Consequences

Public reader discussion about Consequences in the WeRead Catalog by E. M. Delafield.

Appreciation post for my favorite book of all time - Estranged by Ethan M. Aldridge

By aquaSeal3633

I don’t think nearly enough people have read this. It’s seriously underrated, and that feels criminal. So yeah, I’m here yelling about it and trying to get as many people as possible to pick it up. For what it’s about: as a baby, “the Human Childe” gets kidnapped by the fay and ends up being the trophy kid for the king and queen under the world. The real kid gets switched out—he grows up as Edmund and basically lives as a human copy of the Childe. Then the throne gets taken over, the Childe escapes, and Edmund has monsters after him because he’s the heir. There’s a lot going on with both of them chasing after who they are and being jealous of the other person’s life, and Edmund ends up reluctantly going back into the World Below, not even realizing their older sister Allison is following too. And honestly, aside from the story being wild as hell (in a good way), the art is gorgeous. It’s all watercolor, and you can feel everyone’s emotions like, immediately. Plus I really loved the found family stuff—Allison still looks out for Edmund even after she figures out he’s adopted, and it’s basically the first real family he’s ever had. Also the LGBT rep matters to me, and it’s genuinely good: the Childe’s candle golem uses they/them, and in the second book, Edmund (Cinder) is into a goat boy, which I did not expect but I’m obsessed. It also gives me that “Ghibli movie” vibe—kid gets pushed into a magical weird place, everything looks amazing, the emotions are on point, and there’s even a monster chase scene. Anyway, don’t just take my word for it—read it if it kills you.

Unconventional methods of choosing what book to read next - do you have any?

By Bright-Teacup

Over the last few years my ADHD has gotten pretty rough, and it totally messed with my reading. I kept getting stuck on two things: (1) I couldn’t really decide on a book to start in the first place, and (2) I’d lose interest really fast—like not even a third of the way in—and then I’d start worrying I should’ve picked some other book instead. Getting diagnosed and starting meds fixed most of the “not finishing” part, but choosing what to read is still hard for me. The usual advice of “pick what looks good / what you’re in the mood for” just stopped working, especially since my home library keeps growing, so it’s basically endless options and I can’t commit. So I did something kind of dumb: I removed the decision and let randomness handle it. I made a numbered list of the books I actually want to read, sorted it alphabetically, then used a random number generator to pick a number between 1 and however many books are on the list. Whatever it lands on is what I read—and I actually finish it. It’s been surprisingly good, because all the choices are still “books I’d like,” I just can’t handle the whole analysis-paralysis thing. And the randomness shuts down that annoying voice that keeps telling me I picked the wrong one. Has anyone else come up with weird ways to choose? I’m guessing most people don’t struggle with this as much as I do lol.

Studies state that reading fiction develops empathy. Does watching fiction also develop empathy? Why or why not?

By Hidden-Goose27

I keep running into stuff that says reading fiction helps you become more empathetic, and I get that. But I’m not sure if it’s just fiction that does that—what about movies? Like, if someone watches a ton of films, do they end up with the same kind of empathy as someone who reads a lot of fiction? If not, I’m curious why that would be.

Does it bother anyone when people compare modern society to dystopian fiction?

By prologue_chaffer1978

Seems like whenever people talk about modern life, they jump to 1984 or Atlas Shrugged as the main “comparisons.” But a lot of the time I feel like they’re not really paying attention to what those books were actually about, or what’s going on today. After reading both, here’s how it feels to me. 1984, to me, is clearly about an authoritarian government where the state controls a huge part of people’s lives. I don’t really see that kind of thing in the US right now. Yeah, there’s surveillance and tracking to some degree, but it doesn’t feel anywhere near as intense or obvious as in the book. I feel pretty far from an actual authoritarian setup. And with Atlas Shrugged, I don’t think society is as clueless or as purposely cruel as that story makes it sound. The government isn’t just out there oppressing the “big industrial” figures, and people aren’t that one-note or cartoonish. It doesn’t feel like a fair match for modern society. So overall, I kinda think a lot of these comparisons are mostly people trying to be edgy or get a reaction. I’m not saying dystopian fiction has nothing useful to say, but comparing it straight to today feels kind of off, like it’s missing the point. Curious what other people think though—are there other novels people compare to real life that you don’t agree with? I’m not trying to turn it into a huge political back-and-forth. More just wondering how dystopian stories end up shaping how people talk about society.

What have you been reading lately, and what do you think of it? [2JUL2020]

By Stanza_Wanders

I’m curious what everyone’s been reading lately, but honestly I’m more interested in what you thought about it. Let’s not just do a list of titles if we can help it. Also, if there’s a question you don’t think deserves its own big post, you can totally ask it here—especially if you’ve read something you’re wondering about, or someone else’s comment sparks a question for you.

Even more evidence of the decline of reading (and an excellent gloss on the consequences of same)...from the current issue of the Economist

By electricpepper

This week’s culture story from The Economist basically goes on about people reading less (not shocking, I know), but what caught me is the knock-on effects they talk about. There are a bunch of stats—like in the US the share who read for pleasure has dropped a lot over 20 years, and in Britain a huge chunk didn’t read or listen to any books in 2024. Even when it comes to actually getting through stuff, it sounds grim: students supposedly can’t manage one novel in a few weeks, and even the “educated” young don’t really seem to stick with reading. What feels newer to me, though, is the change in what people are reading. The argument is that sentences are getting shorter and easier, and they even claim popular book sentences have gotten way more simplified compared with the old NYT bestseller-style stuff. The more worrying part is the link they make between literacy and being able to think/politicize more carefully. I get that it’s not a simple cause-and-effect thing, but the examples they bring up are pretty scary—like shorter speeches in Britain and that readability comparison in presidential addresses. I’m not sure I fully buy all of it, but it definitely makes me stop and think.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being surprised me how much I liked it.

By cosmos_lantern23956

I kept seeing reviews that basically said people couldn’t get past the male characters and their cheating, and that it ruined the whole thing. I don’t really feel that way. The book was genuinely good, and it felt like way more than just that. I’m not saying I’m okay with infidelity, but I think people are missing what the book is actually going for. One theme I always look for is the idea of what beauty is—like, that sounds simple but it’s not easy to pull off. This book actually went after it, and I liked the way it looked at everything. Even though the characters messed up, their lives still had some kind of beauty to them.

I just finished "The Unbearable Lightness of Being"

By distantFalcon79000

Just finished the whole thing and honestly… wow. I wasn’t ready for how much it’d get inside my head, and not in a bad way. The whole “weight vs lightness” thing really stuck with me. Tomas won’t really commit to anything because he’s scared of what his choices weigh on him, but then the whole “light” version of living starts to feel unbearable too. Tereza destroyed me a bit. She loves Tomas so fully, and he just can’t (or won’t) meet her there the same way. The ending out in the countryside was really pretty, but it also felt quietly brutal, like you’re happy for a second and then wrecked. And Sabina… her whole take on betrayal and trying to live light. I kind of understand where she’s coming from, but it also seems like it would be super lonely. Also, the Soviet invasion parts were way heavier than I expected. I thought I was getting a philosophical romance, but it’s way more political than I realized. Anyway, this book definitely hit different. I’d recommend it if you like stuff that makes you question the way you live. Random question: is there any connection between this and *The Worst Person in the World*? I watched that movie a while ago and now that I’ve read the book I keep feeling like there’s a similar vibe—like the whole indecision/commitment fear/worrying you’re wasting your life. Not the same plot or anything, but… am I just forcing a connection?

Unintended Consequences - John Ross (1995)

By Panther_Cloudy

Has anyone else read this? It’s a fictional story, but it’s basically tied into the history of American guns, and it seems like there are a lot of real historical details mixed into the plot. I read it a few years ago, but I’m starting it up again now. I’m not trying to push either side of the whole gun debate. Honestly, I feel pretty much the same uneasiness a lot of people I know have. That said, I do have a .22 rifle I bought back when I was working on a farm and we had rodent problems. When I first read it, though, I thought it was seriously disturbing. I was kind of shocked it could even be published. It felt like it was practically daring people toward Civil War-level nonsense or something, and I really didn’t like the direction the book went. The modern-day part especially felt way too radical for me. Now that I’m older, I’m curious to see if my feelings have changed at all, and whether it’s actually not that important to compare every angle on the gun issue the way some people argue it is. Some folks treat it like an important piece for the debate, so I’m trying to look at it again. If you’ve read it, what did you think?

My take on the "death of the novel" and the decline of contemporary literature

By cricketPlate1987

(SKIP TO THE END IF YOU WANT THE SHORT VERSION) This has come up a ton here and in book/media talk for like the last 10-20 years, usually in one of these forms: 1) What even happened to the literary novel? 2) Where are the big millennial writers? 3) Will there ever be another Great American Novel? 4) Is there even going to be a great millennial novel at all, American or not? 5) Why does it feel like nobody reads lit anymore? All anyone wants is romantasy, historical fiction, celeb memoirs, whatever. Bret Easton Ellis seems to think millennials just can’t write because they don’t read. Tony Tulathimutte says that’s not really it. I’m closer to Tony on this one: I think novels, and literature in general, just aren’t as necessary for holding culture and lived experience together anymore. The need for that is gone, not really because people got dumber or society fell apart, but because the internet does a lot of that job now. People like us will always still read this stuff because we like it. The craft, the prose, the structure, the little sentences that stop you in your tracks, the passages that make you shut the book and take a walk. The carefully built stories that give you actual insight into being a person, all that. But before, you read stories like that even if that wasn’t the point. The big Russian novels were first coming out in magazines people already read casually. They weren’t only full of philosophy and human-condition stuff; they also had gossip and drama and all that. People read because that was one of the main ways to keep up with other people and other places. They read journals, travel writing, adventure books, because there wasn’t another easy way to know what the hell was going on elsewhere. That’s part of why Moby-Dick took off at first too: people thought it was basically a travel book. And with Jack Kerouac and the Beats, I don’t think On the Road blew up because everyone was waiting for some big avant-garde breakthrough or new life philosophy. It was because it hit at the right time. Highways were new. Cars still felt new. America itself was changing in a way people hadn’t really seen yet, and Kerouac gave them that feeling, plus jazz made it sound cool. Same kind of thing with Joyce and Dubliners, where the appeal was partly that it gave people this sharp picture of Irish identity, the slang and attitudes and all that. There was an audience for that because people wanted it badly. And books from before the internet are still super useful now if you want to see what life was like in a certain place and time. But the annoying truth is that books don’t really have to do that job anymore. The internet does. I don’t need a novel to find out what Groningen or Yakutsk is like. I can just watch vlogs, look at Instagram, scroll through Reddit, see how people are living in places like Africa or Australia or Belize or Azerbaijan, pick up the slang, the memes, the trends, all that. If you know where to look, the internet gives you little bite-sized cultural record-keeping now. Memes, viral stuff, attitudes, the current mood. That’s basically what books used to be for. So I think the market for books is mostly pop books now, because that’s what books can still do. The newer “serious” novels that break through usually still need some kind of hook for a wider audience. Normal People got big not just because it’s “high lit” but because it’s basically a romance book. I’m not really saying anything about whether it’s good or bad, I know people here will argue forever about it. Private Citizens got attention not just because it’s “high lit” but because it’s snarky and has that spicy intersectionality thing going on. And other books that get through are often about some kind of under-discussed suffering or experience from a specific place/group. Anyway, that’s where I’m at. SHORT VERSION: no, Bret Easton Ellis, millennials aren’t suddenly unable to write. They can. It’s just that books don’t really serve that same purpose anymore, so nobody cares as much. Everyone’s on Twitter.

This continued discourse around trigger warnings is strange to me.

By field_simple

I’m not sure if this is the same on every app, but on places like X, Instagram, and Threads, people seem to keep going in circles about trigger warnings in books. For some reason it always turns into a huge fight, and some people act like asking for warnings is basically insulting the author and literature as a whole. I’ve even seen people say they won’t read anything that has them, and I just…don’t get that? I’m a senior med student in the U.S. and I want to go into neuropsychiatry, so I’ve had some exposure to mood disorders and a better sense of how rough PTSD can be for people to deal with. Obviously I still have a lot to learn, but I do try to meet people where they are, be compassionate, and figure out what they actually need and how to help with that. So what does that have to do with trigger warnings? Basically, they’re just there so readers know what kind of stuff is coming up and can decide for themselves if the book is okay for them. That matters a lot for people with PTSD, since they can’t always predict what will set off a physical or mental reaction, and sometimes they’d just rather avoid things that could lead to panic attacks, anxiety attacks, or worse. A smaller example is me: I just cannot handle horror stories mentally. If I read them, I have trouble sleeping for at least a week, sometimes longer. That’s a problem since I already have insomnia and use sleep aids. So yeah, I just don’t read horror. Am I probably missing out on some amazing horror books? For sure. But I don’t think I should have to read literally everything that’s good if it means wrecking my sleep. Medical school is exhausting, and I need every bit of sleep I can get, so I’m fine cutting out anything that messes with that, even if it means skipping a book I might have loved. I wish it wasn’t like this, but I’m not going to put myself through sleepless nights just to say I read horror. I care about self-care, and I’m not trying to live my whole life sleep-deprived, so I do what I need to do. I guess sue me. And for the usual arguments against trigger warnings: - “They spoil the story!” Not really. They’re usually just broad content warnings, not detailed plot summaries. It’s kind of like the viewer discretion stuff at the start of movies, and as far as I know people don’t act like that’s a spoiler. - “You can’t warn for everything!” True. But the expectation is usually just the obvious major stuff, like rape, suicide, domestic violence, and so on, not literally every possible thing. Sure, some people have super specific triggers. And sure, some people will get mad that an author didn’t somehow know their exact situation. But that doesn’t mean the whole idea should be thrown out. - “Trigger warnings keep people from challenging themselves!” Usually the people using them aren’t trying to avoid all difficult content forever. They’re trying to avoid stuff that can cause serious reactions they can’t really control. There’s nothing shameful about protecting your mental health over some abstract idea of “challenge.” You can still read plenty of books that challenge your beliefs or thinking without forcing yourself into trauma. Challenge doesn’t have to mean traumatizing. - “Books are for adults. Adults should be able to handle anything!” Adults are not all the same. People have different mental and emotional limits, and not everyone can handle certain topics and still feel okay afterward. Choosing not to read something doesn’t make someone less of an adult. Honestly, it seems more mature to know your limits. A lot of fields care about informed decisions, and I think trigger warnings are kind of like that: readers get the info they need, and then they decide for themselves. If someone wants to ignore a warning, that’s their choice. If someone avoids a book because of it, that’s also their choice. I still haven’t seen proof that avoiding serious triggers makes people less literate or whatever, but I’m open to sources if anyone has them. - “The only way to get over fear is to face it.” That feels pretty arrogant to me. Not everyone should be told to use exposure-style coping for everything. Even when exposure therapy is used for phobias or some PTSD situations, it’s usually done carefully with trained professionals, because trauma can be serious. So I think it’s kind of callous to just tell people to “fix” PTSD by repeatedly exposing themselves to triggers like it’s some easy trick. Maybe that’s one thing for mild phobias, but not for trauma stuff. - “If people skip books because of warnings, they’ll miss good books!” People skip books for way dumber reasons than that all the time. Bad covers, tropes they hate, thinking a genre is beneath them, hating romance/romantasy or YA, judging authors for being women or POC or LGBTQ+ or politically different, calling something woke trash based on a few details, etc. Also, “good” is subjective anyway. The books people insist everyone has to read are not universally loved. Even classics have plenty of people who think they’re boring or a waste of time. So even if someone ignores a warning, that still doesn’t mean the book would’ve been worth it for them. And not everyone uses trigger warnings to avoid a book entirely. Sometimes they just use them to brace themselves and read anyway. - “I hate trigger warnings and avoid books with them!” If you say people are missing out on good books by avoiding triggers, but you also refuse to read books just because they have warnings, then yeah, that does seem hypocritical. Also, nobody is forcing you to read the warnings. If you don’t need them, just skip past them and start the book. Getting mad that they exist at all seems pretty silly to me, and acting like authors are bad for including them is even sillier. They’re there for people who need them. If you don’t, just ignore them. It’s really not that deep. It’s like allergy labels on food or epilepsy warnings in videos: you may not need them, but other people do, and they help with basically no downside. TL;DR - Mental health still gets treated like it doesn’t matter enough. Trigger warnings are just meant to help readers choose what they want to read. The amount of anger people have toward them feels way out of proportion to what they’re for. I have a feeling the comments on this are going to be a mess, so sorry in advance if I can’t answer everyone. And if someone wants to do the whole “what if I’m triggered by trigger warnings lol” joke…yeah, that one’s not as clever as you think it is.

I'm surprised I haven't seen any discussion on Naomi Alderman's new book 'The Future'

By CellHat9

I didn’t really see anyone talking about Naomi Alderman’s new book *The Future*, so I figured I’d throw my thoughts in. I honestly thought it was a pretty impressive effort. The structure felt kind of weird in a good way, and the way she tells the story uses some pretty unusual choices. She had a big hit with *The Power*, and I’m surprised this one hasn’t gotten more attention, because I really liked it. I’m not super bothered by covers, but I *am* picky about opening lines. This book starts with: > “On the day the world ended, Lenk Sketlish–CEO and founder of the Fantail social network– sat down beneath the redwoods in a designated location of natural beauty and attempted to inhale from his navel.” And yeah… that first chapter is almost painfully over-the-top, like the author is trying super hard with lush nature descriptions and you can’t help but think, “okay, you really want credit.” But then right after that, it totally drops that style and suddenly shifts into something more clipped and modern in chapter two. It’s a jarring pivot, but it works for me more than it should. After that, it basically turns into a pop thriller—someone on the run, a mystery gunwoman, that kind of thing. There aren’t really any references back to the super florid writing from the first chapter, but I guess that was meant to set up that the environment/theme matters later. I don’t usually go out of my way for spy/tech thrillers, but this one was super engaging and I was turning pages. It feels like Alderman picked a genre she maybe isn’t fully “native” to—like a sexy spy thriller—and decided to use it anyway. Not in a “this is bad” way, more like she had a clear idea of what she wanted to do and did it her own way. What I found most interesting is how deep she gets into how social network algorithms are designed to keep people hooked—often by keeping people angry—and how that can spiral into bigger issues for society. She also makes it pretty clear that in her fictional world, the different big tech/social companies have different goals and ways of operating, but they’re each toxic in their own way. She can be blunt about social media, but I didn’t feel like it was preaching nonstop—though it definitely skates close to that line. For me it was more that I kept thinking about it and applying it to stuff that happens in real life. There’s also a bunch of more nerdy, complicated stuff mixed in (sometimes it really goes down into the weeds, including one chapter about “machine learning” told through tic-tac-toe, which is… a choice), but it stays in a fast, exciting thriller/mystery lane. It’s a hard balance, and I think she mostly pulls it off for the mainstream audience. I also noticed some similarities with Eleanor Catton’s *Birnham Wood*—maybe it’s coincidence, but it’s honestly made me side-eye billionaires and what they’re up to in New Zealand. I do think Alderman’s version is more engaging overall, with characters I found more relatable—even if they’re mostly wealthy elites—than Catton’s gang of guerrilla gardeners. And Alderman feels a little more subtle too. Catton basically states the theme outright, while Alderman seems to try to show it with some extra subtlety. One disagreement in my house: I loved the whole religious/cult subplot and the historical/Biblical stuff, but my girlfriend thought I was only into it because I like that kind of topic, and that it was clunky and off-putting. Still, even if you don’t want that material, I thought the way Alderman handles those sections—like having an internet forum where other “users” dissect and even mock the religious analysis next to it—is a pretty clever escape hatch for people who don’t want to sit in that material. It’s not perfect, but it feels ambitious in the topics *and* the way she actually tells the story. I’d like to give her credit for trying something big and different, because *The Future* really is a major accomplishment.

I grew up in a war zone. This is the only novel to accurately capture my experience.

By FallenTurtle

I stopped hanging around there a while ago, but I had to come back and say something about *The Sunflower Boys* by Sam Wachman. I’m not seeing a ton of hype for it (maybe it’s too new), but the few reviews I did find matched what I felt reading it. I grew up in a war zone, and I still can’t really face my childhood head-on. So I’ve been leaning into war novels as a kind of escape/therapy over the years—I’ve read a ton of them. This one is the only one that actually got my experience right in a complete, true-to-life way. I don’t have the same background as Artem with the whole sexuality side, so I can’t speak to that aspect, but I can talk about the part that starts when Russia invades. To me the book splits pretty clearly into two halves. First you’re in rural Ukraine with Artem, a teenage kid with this really tender bond with his best friend. The writing is gorgeous, his everyday life feels vivid and lived-in. Then the second half kicks in and it becomes spring 2022 occupied Ukraine, following Artem and his little brother Yuri through the worst of it. What I keep circling back to is why it hits so hard: - Artem’s perspective is kept like a kid’s perspective on purpose. It doesn’t get all philosophical in a way that pulls you out of the moment. - The war doesn’t feel like one big explosion—it creeps in like a slow infection. Like everything is still “normal” just long enough before the pressure really starts building. The sense of things slowly going wrong is exactly what it felt like for me. - The book doesn’t do that “suffering makes you noble” thing, and it also avoids the cheap shock/horror voyeur stuff. It’s just the constant everyday fallout—gross water, scavenged food, blistered feet, upset stomachs. No hero worship. - Artem doesn’t magically become stronger and wiser. His growth gets messed up in ways that are painfully familiar—he misses certain developmental things because of the war, but also stays stuck in others. - And I really think this is the main thing for me: it doesn’t obsess over tanks, valor, geopolitics, strategy, all that. Governments and nations kind of end up feeling amoral, and the whole tone pushes you toward basic human refusal of violence. Also, the wild part to me is that Wachman is 25, from Massachusetts, and apparently looks way younger than that. I have no idea how he managed to write with this level of accuracy. It’s his debut too, and I couldn’t find much about him actually being in war. He’s apparently connected to pro-Palestine activism, which fits the vibe you get from his writing. If you want to understand what growing up in a wartime childhood is like, this is the one. And honestly, it might be the last war novel I read for a long time, because I feel like I finally got the answer to that same question I always end up asking while reading these books. (Posted here and then I’ll go back to real life. ✌️) Edit: my post got auto-removed by the other books place, so this is going up instead.

Factfulness

By gold_drift

Just finished Factfulness from the Rosling family. Bill Gates called it “one of the most important books I’ve ever read” and honestly that feels like a big endorsement for a reason. It’s kind of in the same spirit as Better Angels of Our Nature (also a Gates pick), but this one is shorter (about 250 pages), a little more playful, and I thought it hit harder. What I really liked is how it points out how much we don’t actually know, without getting preachy or judge-y. It sort of walks you through how to think more clearly, like giving you the tools to question your own assumptions. There’s this whole thing about how we get scared of the unknown, so we end up making things seem worse than they are. The whole “factfulness” practice made me feel like I could see the world more clearly, and yeah, it also somehow boosted my energy.

Authors who wrote about uncomfortable facts from their personal life (i.e. bad parents, family issues, toxic relationship...): what where the consequences? Did their life change after the book publication? If yes, in good or in bad?

By ivorywren

There are tons of books that clearly come from real life, but I still can’t help wondering what happens when an author writes about the ugly stuff from their own experience and the “bad people” can basically recognize themselves, even if everything is supposed to be fictionalized (new names, made-up details, all that). Stephen Elliott feels like the exact kind of example I’m thinking about (the one with his father). He didn’t really hide behind the fiction since it’s pretty well known that his father shows up as the villain in a lot of his books. I don’t know what the fallout was for him, but at least for now his father—who’s described as violent—doesn’t seem to have reacted too strongly. Still, if I were him, I think I’d be pretty scared about what could happen if someone saw the book and took it as a threat. I’d love to hear about other stories like this and how they turned out. Also, is it common for authors to write while “fighting” ghosts that are still alive and might recognize themselves in what they wrote? Sorry if my English is off—I’m not a native speaker.

Literary Analysis is Absolutely Pointless

By HiddenSwan6

Some books feel like they let you have a bunch of different readings at once, even ones that don’t really fit together. Like, if there was truly only one right way to read something, I don’t think anyone would ever be able to pin it down. And if the author isn’t the one controlling the “meaning” after it’s out there, then it seems like every reader just drags their own stuff into it—where they’re from, what they’ve been taught, what they’re inclined to see, all that. So the “interpretation” is basically coming from the person, not from the text in some clean, objective way. And if multiple interpretations can all be “right” at the same time, then I honestly don’t get what the point of analysis is. People start tossing around “evidence,” “because,” “therefore,” and it just feels like word games. If two people can argue opposite things and both claim they’ve got proof, then how is any of it actually coherent? Like, you can find someone to say Tom Sawyer is basically terrible and someone else to argue he’s good, and neither side feels “wrong.” Or with stuff like the wardrobe in Narnia—symbol of imagination, maturity, God knows what else—or even claiming it’s “The Bible” (I’ve seen that too). If that’s the situation, then it starts to feel like there isn’t real logic under it. I do like fiction sometimes, but the way people talk about “literary devices” and “textual evidence” for fun stories really throws me. Sure, fiction can carry feelings and ideas, but once it’s all put under the microscope, it seems like it can only really count as what’s supported by the “evidence” and whether the argument hangs together. But it’s still fiction—so it doesn’t seem like a good way to measure what’s real or what’s actually true. If someone wants to treat it as “art” and argue about interpretations, fine, but then you have to accept that it’s totally subjective and not really something you can trust for knowledge.

I’m finish up reading “The Glass Castle”, and my blood is boiling.

By CrimsonPencil

Seriously, every time a new story kicks off around the middle of the book, my stress level jumps. I’m not kidding—I think the author did a great job gradually changing the vibe as the perspective shifts from a kid to a young adult. But man… it’s one bad choice after another. Impulsive, self-destructive, the whole thing. You can totally feel the inner tug-of-war while the book tries to show both sides of her relationship with her parents. She clearly loved them, and it also feels like they cared about her in their own way. At the same time, it’s like they were determined to wreck anything good and pull their kids down with them. I’m at the part where her mom is trying to convince her to buy her uncle’s place, and I honestly want to throttle someone. And still, I can’t help thinking that even if she sold it and somehow grabbed a bunch of money, it still wouldn’t have changed their direction. The way things are going, they’d still lose it all—like every other dollar they ever made. After this I’m definitely going to need something easy to read. Is anyone else getting really fired up about this book?

How is it that early 20th century authors foresaw the dystopian future now coming to fruition?

By cosmiccat4595

I keep seeing people bring up *1984* almost every day, but I feel like *Brave New World* and *Fahrenheit 451* are just as important. They’re kind of scary in how they seem to call out the kind of dystopian stuff we’re dealing with now. Do you think they were actually accurate, and how could the authors spot all that so clearly back then? Like, were they just warning us, and if so, why didn’t we listen? Also, what should we be paying more attention to today, and is there a way to use these books to help us avoid the really bad outcomes they show? It’s a lot of questions, but I guess that’s the point—how did they know, and why do so many stories point to the same kind of future? Why haven’t people taken the hints? And can fiction really help protect us here and now?

Can someone explain My Year of Rest and Relaxation to me?

By ancient

Just wrapped this up, and I honestly didn’t really get it. The writing is really pretty and I usually like books with characters you can’t stand. It also read super fast and I wasn’t bored, even though it feels pretty plot-light. But then I hit the end and I’m like… okay, so what was all that for? What’s the whole point supposed to be, and what is the ending even trying to say? It feels like it’s taking something really awful and turning it into this kind of basic “make your life meaningful” takeaway. I’m probably missing something, but I can’t tell what. Can someone spell it out for me?

Doomsday Book - Connie Willis

By Corner-Calm

I read 11/22/63 a while back and ended up thinking, okay, time travel stuff is actually a lot of fun. After that I went looking for more, and Doomsday Book by Connie Willis kept getting recommended nonstop. I knew it had something to do with a group of historians from Oxford in the near future who end up going back to the Middle Ages. But pretty fast it felt totally different from 11/22/63. There aren’t any repeat-day Groundhog Day vibes, and it’s not like they’re using what happens later. It’s more like you’re dropped right into one of the worst periods in human history: the Black Death. At first I thought it was kind of dull and slow, and I’m not sure if it was just my expectations. Then somewhere around a quarter of the way in, I got hooked and couldn’t stop. The characters are really great and they feel so real, especially with that grim setting. Has anyone else read it? What did you think?