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Wrapping up the year’s book reading. And for those of you who care, this makes 43 books I read in 2017 – which is one book more than the 42 books I set for the Goodreads Reading Challenge. So, go me.
The Power by Naomi Alderman
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I’ve never read Naomi Alderman before – this is her fourth novel, and one that has received a lot of attention (and at least one award), not least for the timeliness of its subject matter with the rise of the #MeToo movement, although of course the novel was published well before that. Presented as a “historical novel” written in the future, the central premise is a thought experiment in which young girls worldwide develop the ability to produce electric jolts with their fingertips strong enough to hurt and even kill. They can also use this ability to activate it in older women. The story tracks the worldwide cultural impact of this – specifically in terms of gender inequality – via four characters: Roxy (daughter of a London crime boss), Allie (who starts a major religious movement), Margot (an ambitious politician), and Tunde (a male blogger documenting the phenomenon). Some readers (particularly guys) might be tempted to write this off as feminist revenge porn, and Alderman isn’t exactly subtle in showcasing scenarios where men find out what it’s like to be on the wrong end of the gender power dynamic. But there’s a lot more going on here than that – the novel works well as an exploration of power itself, its ability to corrupt whoever wields it, and the implications of this in the context of modern gender issues. The science part requires some serious suspension of disbelief, and personally I think such a movement would take longer to become so widespread (although Alderman gives herself an out with her book-within-a-book device). Also, I would have liked to see how the evolution of ‘the power’ would have impacted Asian cultures, which isn’t really mentioned at all. That said, the characters are well crafted, and it’s definitely a page turner, especially by the third act. Interesting and thought-provoking.
Home by Nnedi Okorafor
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This is the follow-up to Binti, which I really enjoyed, so I was looking forward to this one. And it was worth the wait. In the first installment, Binti ran away from home to study at the prestigious Oomza University. In this one, it’s one year later and – as the title implies – Binti takes a break from her studies to return home with the hopes of healing her relationship with both her family and her tribe – she also hopes to heal herself as she struggles to deal with the trauma of the events of the first book, as well as the guilt she feels for running away from home, which has cultural implications for her future. Naturally, things don’t go as planned, and soon Binti finds herself on a journey she didn't expect to learn things about herself and be presented with a choice that could drive her even further away from her family and culture. Like the first book, it’s a well-written, well-paced and compelling story driven by a very believable and sympathetic heroine deeply affected by past events and torn between cultural traditions and a destiny that forces her to question and possibly reject those traditions. The only disappointment for me is the cliffhanger ending, though I know there’s a third installment out soon. You can bet I’ll be reading it.
Infomocracy by Malka Ann Older
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This debut novel from Malka Older is an ambitious thought experiment – imagine that our national governments are replaced with a global “microdemocracy” system in which everyone is mapped into centenals (groups of 100,000 people), and every ten years they vote for the political party they want. The party that wins the most centenals becomes a “supermajority” that drives global policy. Key to this system is “Information” – imagine Google as a UN agency – that governs and enforces the election process, and transparently provides information to all people so that they’re as well informed as possible about their choices. It’s a complex concept to process (Older explains it well in this blog post, which I recommend reading before starting this book) and it took a lot of suspension of disbelief for me to run with it (namely, the notion that established governments would ever go along with such an idea). But if you can get past those roadblocks, it’s a fascinating concept that Older explores reasonably well – to include the flaws inherent in such a system. Indeed, the plot revolves around Information agent Mishima and ambitious Policy1st campaigner Ken chasing clues that one or more governments may be trying to either game the system or dismantle it completely. It’s a steep learning curve and occasionally cheesy, but never dull, and Older’s prose really flows well.
The Toynbee Convector by Ray Bradbury
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Because Bradbury was mainly a short-story writer, the majority of his books are collections – some are more famous than others (The Illustrated Man, I Sing the Body Electric! & Other Stories and The October Country come to mind). This is one of his less-famous collections from the late 80s, although the title track – about a famous time traveler who reveals how he did it to a reporter – is somewhat well-known. Perhaps it’s because Bradbury covers his usual beat – SF, ghost stories, horror, nostalgic Americana, romantic comedy, doomed marriages, etc – so it doesn’t seem as groundbreaking as it did in the 50s and 60s. But less-famous doesn’t mean low-quality – even average Bradbury is generally more entertaining than not, and there are plenty of good yarns here, some of which are as good as his most famous works. It also features perhaps his naughtiest story (of the ones I’ve read, anyway) – “Junior”, about an octogenarian Don Juan character who celebrates his first erection since 1970. It’s all innuendo and Bradbury has a heck of a lot of fun with it – as he seems to do with most of his stories, which I suspect is the secret to his success.
View all my reviews
Fun fun fun,
This is dF

My rating: 4 of 5 stars
I’ve never read Naomi Alderman before – this is her fourth novel, and one that has received a lot of attention (and at least one award), not least for the timeliness of its subject matter with the rise of the #MeToo movement, although of course the novel was published well before that. Presented as a “historical novel” written in the future, the central premise is a thought experiment in which young girls worldwide develop the ability to produce electric jolts with their fingertips strong enough to hurt and even kill. They can also use this ability to activate it in older women. The story tracks the worldwide cultural impact of this – specifically in terms of gender inequality – via four characters: Roxy (daughter of a London crime boss), Allie (who starts a major religious movement), Margot (an ambitious politician), and Tunde (a male blogger documenting the phenomenon). Some readers (particularly guys) might be tempted to write this off as feminist revenge porn, and Alderman isn’t exactly subtle in showcasing scenarios where men find out what it’s like to be on the wrong end of the gender power dynamic. But there’s a lot more going on here than that – the novel works well as an exploration of power itself, its ability to corrupt whoever wields it, and the implications of this in the context of modern gender issues. The science part requires some serious suspension of disbelief, and personally I think such a movement would take longer to become so widespread (although Alderman gives herself an out with her book-within-a-book device). Also, I would have liked to see how the evolution of ‘the power’ would have impacted Asian cultures, which isn’t really mentioned at all. That said, the characters are well crafted, and it’s definitely a page turner, especially by the third act. Interesting and thought-provoking.

My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This is the follow-up to Binti, which I really enjoyed, so I was looking forward to this one. And it was worth the wait. In the first installment, Binti ran away from home to study at the prestigious Oomza University. In this one, it’s one year later and – as the title implies – Binti takes a break from her studies to return home with the hopes of healing her relationship with both her family and her tribe – she also hopes to heal herself as she struggles to deal with the trauma of the events of the first book, as well as the guilt she feels for running away from home, which has cultural implications for her future. Naturally, things don’t go as planned, and soon Binti finds herself on a journey she didn't expect to learn things about herself and be presented with a choice that could drive her even further away from her family and culture. Like the first book, it’s a well-written, well-paced and compelling story driven by a very believable and sympathetic heroine deeply affected by past events and torn between cultural traditions and a destiny that forces her to question and possibly reject those traditions. The only disappointment for me is the cliffhanger ending, though I know there’s a third installment out soon. You can bet I’ll be reading it.

My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This debut novel from Malka Older is an ambitious thought experiment – imagine that our national governments are replaced with a global “microdemocracy” system in which everyone is mapped into centenals (groups of 100,000 people), and every ten years they vote for the political party they want. The party that wins the most centenals becomes a “supermajority” that drives global policy. Key to this system is “Information” – imagine Google as a UN agency – that governs and enforces the election process, and transparently provides information to all people so that they’re as well informed as possible about their choices. It’s a complex concept to process (Older explains it well in this blog post, which I recommend reading before starting this book) and it took a lot of suspension of disbelief for me to run with it (namely, the notion that established governments would ever go along with such an idea). But if you can get past those roadblocks, it’s a fascinating concept that Older explores reasonably well – to include the flaws inherent in such a system. Indeed, the plot revolves around Information agent Mishima and ambitious Policy1st campaigner Ken chasing clues that one or more governments may be trying to either game the system or dismantle it completely. It’s a steep learning curve and occasionally cheesy, but never dull, and Older’s prose really flows well.

My rating: 4 of 5 stars
Because Bradbury was mainly a short-story writer, the majority of his books are collections – some are more famous than others (The Illustrated Man, I Sing the Body Electric! & Other Stories and The October Country come to mind). This is one of his less-famous collections from the late 80s, although the title track – about a famous time traveler who reveals how he did it to a reporter – is somewhat well-known. Perhaps it’s because Bradbury covers his usual beat – SF, ghost stories, horror, nostalgic Americana, romantic comedy, doomed marriages, etc – so it doesn’t seem as groundbreaking as it did in the 50s and 60s. But less-famous doesn’t mean low-quality – even average Bradbury is generally more entertaining than not, and there are plenty of good yarns here, some of which are as good as his most famous works. It also features perhaps his naughtiest story (of the ones I’ve read, anyway) – “Junior”, about an octogenarian Don Juan character who celebrates his first erection since 1970. It’s all innuendo and Bradbury has a heck of a lot of fun with it – as he seems to do with most of his stories, which I suspect is the secret to his success.
View all my reviews
Fun fun fun,
This is dF