I still love so much about this series and am looking forward to continuing it. Vaughan is blending together characters and plot threads in interesting and new ways, and I’m eager to see where he goes with it. This didn’t get as high as a review from me as the last volume, though. Maybe it’s because there was some more of the gore that’s my least favorite part of this, or maybe it’s because I don’t like media about couples going through rough patches, even if it’s well done.

You know, I still feel like Saga leans into being a comic for adults by putting adult material in there just because it can. That said, I’ll admit that I have a certain amount of inherent prudishness that may be coloring my thinking there. More importantly, I enjoy the art, the story is getting better and more interesting, and I’m eager to keep reading.

I gave Saga a try a few years ago, but it didn’t quite work for me (or my prudishness), so as good of a reputation it had, I didn’t stick with it. I just got the first ten volumes through a Humble Bundle, though, and so it’s time to give it another try. I’m no longer bothered by swearing and sex like I was a decade (or whatever) ago, though I’ll admit that casual gore is not something that endears me to comics. I don’t know if I think this is the best comic ever, but I can tell why it’s beloved, and I’m excited to keep reading. The art is great, the characters are compelling, it’s delightfully weird, and I enjoy the use of Esperanto as an alien language. Looking forward to the next volume!

I picked this up after hearing about it in the show notes of an EFF podcast the author appeared on. This is not the book that I expected to read, I’m not sure I entirely got it, and it even feels a bit like a shaggy dog story at the end. I still enjoyed it, though, in a way I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s neat to read fiction from deliberately African perspectives, the shaggy dog-ness is probably the point, and the characters are compelling. I’m looking forward to trying the sequel.

What a wild listen! I started this right after finishing Doctorow’s Little Brother because it’s recommended in the supplementary materials. It’s a bit odd to read in 2023: The idea of cryptocurrency has been tainted with recent news, it spectacularly fails the Bechdel test, and it seems to me to use more casual racial slurs than the chapters in the Pacific Theater might allow for in the name of realism. Yet, it’s intricately plotted, well written, just absurd enough to make it better, and technical without being overwhelming. I don’t know that I’ll ever read it again, but I think it’s deserving of its reputation.

I’m not sure I enjoyed the second series as much as the first, but over time, it grew on me. The finale nicely tied things together and helped me see how Burnside’s hubris was a running theme of the series (rather than a character derailment). Interested to see what happens in the final series!

To my own surprise, I’ve been getting into audiobooks recently, and having listened to Doctorow’s “Walkaway,” I decided to revisit his Little Brother series in audio form. Parts of the first book haven’t aged well (including some language that was bad enough to be edited out of the print version I have), and while I enjoy Doctorow’s opinions, they sometimes overwhelm the story here. That said, to quote TVTropes, some anvils are worth dropping, and the messages about privacy, surveillance, and civil liberties are as relevant as ever, I don’t know if I enjoyed the book as much as I did my first time through, but I still like it enough to give it four hearts.

I haven’t read this in over a decade, so I recently decided to listen to an audiobook version and see how I liked it this time through. The overall story is excellent! I found particularly compelling the question of scientific (and technological) responsibility, and the creature’s railing against his creator at Chamonix in the middle of the book struck me as almost Job-like. I wasn’t expecting the Chamonix scene to resonate with me as much as the tech allegory, but it will also stay with me, I think. Maybe it’s my modern reader’s eyes (or general familiarity with the book, but I found that this time, I didn’t have a lot of patience for some of the extended expressions of melancholy or the “travelogue” aspects of the book. I also found the nested epistolary structure to sometimes strain my suspension of disbelief. That said, those are ultimately minor complaints!

By the time this movie came out in 2005, I was already deep into superhero media, and I love using recycled tropes to tell an interesting story. This does an excellent job, and it was a favorite for my whole family when it came out. (In fact, I hadn’t remembered until rewatching it that one of my family’s shared verbal tics comes from a running gag involving Ron Wilson, Bus Driver). When the latest episode of The Incomparable covered this movie, I decided to watch it with my daughter, who also loved it. It’s funny, well-plotted, and endearing, and I’m glad to have rewatched it for the first time in years and years.

I only learned about The Sandbaggers last weekend, on an episode of The Incomparable, but I watched the entire first series this week—and loved it. It isn’t perfect: There’s too much 1970s casual misogyny for it to be self-critical in the same way that a modern show set in the 70s would be, and the brown face in one episode is also embarassing. Not setting those aside, I was still impressed with the way the show combined the bumbling hypocrisy of Yes, Minister; the self-serving internal politics of Slow Horses; and the cynical despair of Le Carré into a single, compelling show.

I’m a big fan of Delisle’s comics, but in the past, I’ve skipped his series on parenting. This morning, though, a friend visiting Brussels offered to bring me back a copy of Delisle’s « Chroniques de Jeunesse », so when I went to the library later in the day, I couldn’t help but pick up something else he’s done. His art is great, and his stories are funny and sweet. My only complaint is that I couldn’t read the original French edition (though I should be glad Kentucky libraries carry the English translations!).

Reading an actual Apple terms of service document can only be so interesting, but at least creating a graphic novel version helps. The sheer audacity of the project is most of why I liked this comic, but it’s also quite fun to see Sikoryak’s homages to different comics, always with a Jobsian twist. It’s weird, and I don’t see myself rereading it, but I think it’s great.

I’ve been looking forward to this since the first season ended. Midway through watching the first season, I’d already begun reading the series, and I may have already finished the second book by the time I saw the trailer for the second series. This season did a great job at making use of the source material while changing and improving things as needed. It’s a fun book series, but I think it’s shaping up to be a better show.

What a beautiful book! Krug’s story of exploring both what it means to be German and her family’s connection to Nazism is moving, and her multimodal approach—combining text, photos, and drawings—really helps the story come alive. It was sometimes hard to follow all the names and threads, but that’s largely my own fault. I’d been meaning to read this for a while and was pleased to randomly find it on a library shelf.

This is a fascinating work of history that I’ve been meaning to read for a long time. The format of the PDF was a bit wonky, and the subject matter is heavy, so I didn’t move through it as quickly as some other recent reads, but I am glad I made it through—I learned a lot!

I find myself enjoying this books as quick reads in between—or concurrent with—longer, more demanding reads. It’s interesting to see Moren build up more of his fictional universe and do more work to connect characters and events.

I enjoyed the actions and setting of this book—it would make good inspiration for an RPG setting, which I mean as a compliment. It felt like the cliffhanger in this book was a bit of a gimmick, and I’m not sure I followed all of the plot (or that it was developed in the way I would have hoped), but it was still an enjoyable read.

Like the previous books in this series, I enjoyed this read even if it wasn’t the best book in the world. Moren continues to build an interesting world populated by tropey-but-fun characters.

I saw this book at a bookstore on a recent family vacation and immediately made note of it. I’d read Robb’s The Discovery of France in college and really enjoyed it, so I was sure I’d like this one, too.

I checked it out from the library and then had to read it in a rush when I was alerted about someone else’s hold on the book. I ended up turning it in about a week late, but oh well.

I really should have been reading other books that I started earlier, but this one was too much fun not to start. Several weeks ago, I watched the Aardman-animated The Pirates! movie and I came away a bit disappointed. I had liked the books in high school, so I looked them up at the library, only to find this book by the same author.

The subject matter was really interesting to me—I’ve been fascinated by the social construction of countries since before I knew the language to put it in those terms. I had heard of some of these “extinct countries” but not of others, but I enjoyed reading about all of them.

A friend gave me this book as a gift for my confirmation nearly a year ago. I wasn’t sure what I would think about it, but I was excited about Merton’s connection with Kentucky, and I figured that if my friend liked it, it ought to be pretty good.

I finally decided to dive in and while I have a good opinion of it overall, I think my response is better described as mixed. Not all of the book resonated with me—I felt that Merton talked a lot about contemplation (sometimes in very interesting ways) without ever really giving any practical information on what contemplation is and how to practice it.

Like the previous entry in this series, I wouldn’t say that this is a classic of science fiction, but it was a fun read. The worldbuilding continues to be interesting, the characters have potential, the plot was fun, and I enjoyed reading it.

It did make me want to play some space opera/space military RPGs, but I also felt conflicted about that. As I think about Community of Christ’ focus on becoming a peace church, I wonder how much I should enjoy reading books that make violence and warfare interesting (or consuming other media that does the same).

I read this book for the first time a few years ago. Dan is a regular panelist on The Incomparable and a regular player on their D+D spinoff, so I figured I owed it a read. When reading it then, it bounced off of me—I wasn’t all that impressed with the story or the writing, and I barely remembered any of it when revisiting it.

I recently listened to Dan talk about this book—and the sequels he’s since written—on an episode of The Incomparable, so I decided to give the series another try. It’s not a masterpiece of science fiction, but I liked the setting and the writing wasn’t terrible. I don’t know what made the difference this time, but I’ve already reserved the next one from the library.

I don’t remember why I decided to reread this book, and I struggled a lot with it during the first half. It’s something of a classic, and I know that my dad found it uproariously funny, so I would have expected to really enjoy it. It bounced off of me when I first read it (in high school?) and it felt painful to get through this time.

In the second half of the book, though, the dark parts of the book spoke to me in a way that the absurd humor didn’t (which surprised me a lot). I don’t know that I loved the book, but there are several parts that I really appreciated.

I am not entirely sure why I decided to finally read this book. I say “finally,” but the truth is that it’s never been on my list of books to read. I certainly never had plans to watch the movie, but maybe that was what pushed me to read the book. After hearing os much about a classic movie that I didn’t think I’d ever watch, I figured I ought to at least read the book.

If I thought the previous book was wrapping up the series for it to be concluded here (which I did), I was absolutely wrong. This book laid further breadcrumbs for future books, left the reader in total suspense about the fate of one of its most prominent characters, and had a delightful story of its own.

The cynicism of the book and the incompetence or irritation of its characters continue in fine form from previous entries in the series. I wonder if the connection to contemporary events will make it harder for this book to age well, but they make it a more interesting read in the present.