juushika: Photograph of a row of books on a library shelf (Books Once More)
List of book reviews for 2005 )

Year Long Total: 25 books



List of book reviews for 2006 )

Year Long Total: 64 books



List of book reviews for 2007 )

Year Long Total: 37 books



List of book reviews for 2008 )

Year Long Total: 67 books



List of book reviews for 2009 )

Year Long Total: 50 books



List of book reviews for 2010 )

Year Long Total: 37 books



List of book reviews for 2011 )

Year Long Total: 52 books



List of book reviews for 2012 )

Year Long Total: 32 books



List of book reviews for 2013 )

Year Long Total: 65 books



List of book reviews for 2014 )

Year Long Total: 16 books



List of book reviews for 2015 )

Year Long Total: 61 books



List of book reviews for 2016 )

Year Long Total: 123 books



List of book reviews for 2017 )

Year Long Total: 148 books



List of book reviews for 2018 )

Year Long Total: 145 books



List of book reviews for 2019 )

Year Long Total: 339 books



List of book reviews for 2020 )

Year Long Total: 187 books



List of book reviews for 2021 )

Year Long Total: 157 books



List of book reviews for 2022 )

Year Long Total: 147 books



List of book reviews for 2023 )


Year Long Total: 218 books



List of book reviews for 2024 )

Year Long Total: 149 books



List of book reviews for 2025 )

Year Long Total: 34 books


Also See:
Tags: book reviews, book reviews: recommended, book reviews: not recommended
Reviews on Amazon.com, Profile on Amazon.com
Profile on GoodReads
juushika: Drawing of a sleeping orange cat (I should have been born a cat)

Books


Again, I did not track my reading stats in detail in 2024. According to my Goodreads Year in Books, I read 165 books totaling 31,186 pages, but this excludes a number of texts. Read more. )

My Dark Vanessa, Kate Elizabeth Russell
I started 2024 off strong. This is a nuanced, incredibly immersive depiction of a student/teacher relationship, deeply embedded in the protagonist's changing view of that relationship, and that's what has stuck with me: its particular, remarkable moments, often recontextualized, even as they occur.

Our Share of the Night, Mariana Enriquez
A tour de force, split between family saga, the politics of power, and a robust speculative element. Without the balance between these parts, it would be a miserable drag; instead it's compelling and ruthless.

The World Cannot Give, Tara Isabella Burton
Toxic queer female friendships at boarding school, and the search for meaning: trashy, stylized, deeply my jam. Two five-stars from the same author is remarkable; when Burton is speaking my language, I'm listening hard.

Zetsuai 1989 and Bronze - Zetsuai since 1989, Minami Ozaki
This is an unusual favorite, because is objectively often total trash, a product of its time and of problems with the genre; there's a lot to laugh at, here. But it is also one of those foundational works which is indicative of why the genre keeps me coming back. A chaotic masterwork of obsessive, toxic love that does some things that still feel like unusual executions of its tropes.

Margaret Wise Brown
A deep dive into a picture book author already gives away that their work is remarkable; and Brown's is. She has a penchant for lists, think Goodnight Moon, for particular details in thoughtful arrangement; a quiet mundanity with emotional weight. Atop that, many of her books have been re-illustrated or were edited posthumously, providing fascinating insight into the relationship between text and art in picture books. My favorites, excluding the obvious: The Dead Bird, Two Little Trains, When The Wind Blew, and Night and Day.

Freeze Tag, Caroline B. Cooney
A most remarkable YA thriller, based on a fairy tale and carrying that ethos forward even when setting it against the social dramas of its genre; it creates a surprising sense of weirdness and horror. And Cooney's voice is remarkable, evocative and abrupt.

Leech, Hiron Ennes
I love a book that's willing to get weird, and this does it in its worldbuilding, which is cogent, complete, and still deeply, ingeniously bonkers: body horror, parasites, post-apocalyptic far future societies, and an identity that moves chaotically from federated to singular—everything but a kitchen sink. As a bonus, the audiobook is a phenomenal performance, dynamic and adjusting to suit accents and the changing protagonist, all without dipping into caricature.

Honorable Mentions in Books


The King of Elfland's Daughter, Lord Dunsany
A book about fairyland which feels truly magical, magical in atmosphere and structure and world, is a rare gift.

At the Dark End of the Street: Black Women, Rape, and Resistance—A New History of the Civil Rights Movement from Rosa Parks to the Rise of Black Power, Danielle L. McGuire
A punishing and necessary reframing of the role that women played in the civil rights movement; the best nonfiction I read all year.

The Shiny Narrow Grin, Jane Gaskell
I'm a sucker for early examples of a trope and how they inform the development of the genre, so the relationship between this and Klause's The Silver Kiss and the growth of the sympathetic vampire and YA paranormal romance is fascinating—and Gaskell's voice is uniquely strange.

The Butcher of the Forest, Premee Mohammed
This may as well have been written just for me: creepy forest, in autumn, with folklore and fairies and a deep pall of horror. I look forward to rereading it in autumns to come.

The Haunted Dollhouse, Terry Berger, David Berger, Karen Coshof
I read a fair number of picture books, particularly seeking weird and scary picture books, and it doesn't get weirder than this. Unique, inexplicable, utterly delightful; a forgotten gem.

The Woman in White, Wilkie Collins
Luxuriously, infuriatingly slow and person-focused within a delightfully ridiculous thriller plot, this has some of the best characters I've encountered in recent memory.

A Guest in the House, Emily Carroll
There's unlikely to be a Carroll I don't like, but I read a bumper crop of graphic novels this year and this was easily the best—because of Carroll's touch, because it was willing to be gestural and borderline unexplained, set effectively against a surprising-for-Carroll mundane setting.

Last to Leave the Room, Caitlin Starling
I quibbled with this, and yet what it does well is explicitly to my taste: identity and interpersonal relationships as defined by care, harm, and social power, with a weird speculative concept and some truly creepy moments.

"Spar," Kij Johnson
Slipping in under the wire, a short story about the permeability of human/alien sexual (non-)relationships, invasive and discomforting and surprisingly convincing.



Games


The vast majority of the games on this list were ones I watched, not played. My partner played a lot of games this year, and I spent my solo gaming time writing, instead.

Blood Omen: Legacy of Kain, Legacy of Kain: Soul Reaver remaster, Legacy of Kain: Soul Reaver 2 remaster
It was great to go into the remasters having finally watched Blood Omen; the "lesser" games in this series are less successful, and Blood Omen is very retro, but it retains the hallmarks of plot, setting, atmosphere, and voice acting, and so enriches the series overall. And the remasters are, effectively, perfect: one good and one great game, upscaled while preserving their character, enriched by the gift of an archive of everything from unfinished levels to, my favorite, original studio recordings of the voice actors, which are a privilege to watch.

The Last of Us remake
Allow me to come in almost as late as possible to say this universally acclaimed game is really good. Not all of its dramatic beats work for me, but it leads with and commits wholly to its narrative, to its central relationship. I'm grateful that some Sony exclusives are making their way to PC, and the remake is stupid beautiful, and I can't wait to see the second game in 2025.

Silent Hill 2 Remake
My cozy game of the year: I would watch high resolution journeys through the fog and into the nightmare dimension with a flawless horror soundtrack forever; these were the best naps I had all year. This feels more than is faithful, which I like in a remake, preserving tone and atmosphere above all.

Days Gone
Defying all expectations (mixed reviews, zombies), this is the best open world title I've seen in some time. It avoids many of the pitfalls of the Ubisoft open world framework by making its storylines closely bound, has a clever AI gimmick in the hordes, sidesteps many boring zombie tropes, and has the most naturalistic dialog I've ever seen in game, a bold and endearing stylistic choice that really sells already strong characters. I kept waiting for this to fuck up, and it's not perfect, but it handles society rebuilding and disability with surprising care. And it's set in the PNW!

Pacific Drive
S.T.A.L.K.E.R: Pacific Northwest car version, quirky and tender and creepy, with a stellar retro aesthetic, solid game loop, and true bond player/car bond. What a great year for games set where I live! They make me feel a certain way.

Alan Wake II
I couldn't stand the first Wake game, but love Control; this is exactly where I wanted Wake to go, how I wanted to see the franchises unite. It maintains some imperfect, often forgettable mechanics, but an AWE as a lived experience is all I could have hoped: trippy, self-swallowing, evocative in aesthetic. And! More PNW!

Honorable Mentions in Games


Crow Country
Unique among many retro games for its unique camera mechanic, which, in a puzzle/exploration game, gives navigation an ongoing sense of discovery. The speculative/mystery plot is cooky but committed, which means it's actually solvable by its own internal logics.

Tormented Souls
Of the retro-style horror games of the year, this is the silliest and, so help me, the best. It grows on you: ridiculously excessive on every possible vector, from cluttered mansion to creepy twins and time travel and medical horror, it manages to be campy but sincere horror and stupidly fun. And janky, but that's part of the retro-style charm.

Chants of Sennaar
The puzzle mechanic of this game (decipher glyphs from context and social cues) delight me; this scratched an itch given to me by Tunic and by learning sitelen pona: language as worldbuilding.

Slay the Princess
What a fantastic use of a visual novel and wrong ends as a format, and a non-CG art style which is accessible, stylized, dynamic, beautiful, able to get so weird. I only watched an LP of this, and should probably delve deeper, but it's fantastic.

Citizen Sleeper
This feels like a solo TTRPG as a video game, and I'm compelled by that, by what gamified formats can enable a solo-ish project, how minimal a game can be and maintain game elements.

Clock Tower
I love an early example of a genre that explains huge chucks of the genre in retrospect, and this did that and then some, because some of its mechanics (the degree of randomness in each run; the requirements to have need of an item in order to collect/use the item) feel like they've never been used elsewhere to this degree.

Eternal Darkness: Sanity's Requiem
Like Clock Tower, I enjoy the surprise of a "never seen a game quite like this" from a retro title. The narrative structure here is incredibly unique, and well suits a Lovecraftian premise.

Mouthwashing
Unexpected restraint, given the subject matter and the many ways in which this isn't remotely restrained; a kind of restrained that doesn't mean subtle, with clear but grateful messaging even within the capitalism pastiche and gore.

We Know the Devil
I watched this on account of a fic exchange and then spent too long crying about it. A phenomenal set of inspirations and tone, with viciously aspirational themes: the violence and catharsis of being forced to confront self-actualization.

Bloom by Litza Bronwyn
In a year of discovering solo RPJs, this one is remarkable for the thoughtful depth of its prompts and its overlap with fandom; RPG as transformative work is nothing new, but this proves why that premise works.

Elegy by Miracle M
In a year of discovering solo RPGs, this is the one I could play on and off for years. A loving mishmash of vampire RPGs, set up to create a dynamic campaign with a lot of ongoing momentum, overflowing with an excess of style.



Visual Media



Scavengers Reign
My watch of the year, this is a remarkable achievement both of actual speculative evolution and of what the genre makes you feel: the wonder, the impossible scale and interconnection and alien verisimilitude of the natural world. It made me cry, what, three times? For its beauty; for the terrible awe of potential.

L.A. Confidential
Living up to all my culturally osmosed hype, this has noir vibes in thoughtful, indulgent abundance. And it has an OT3, and honestly that's what tips me from "fun watch!" to "I read fanfic for this."

The Legend of Vox Machina
Of course I was going to love this; and I did love this. It's the art of adaptation on fascinating display, as well as an insight into the success of the first campaign compared to later ones, namely: the sheer, giddy angst. So the first season, which is the most faithful & most angsty, is the best, but the whole show was fantastic.

Great British Bake-Off series 15
This is the best GBBO series in recent history by a long shot. Less of (although never none of) what make the show excruciating, but, more importantly, a stellar group of contestants in both ability and personality. This one just hits different: refreshing, honest, joyous.

Christine, Duel, The Hitcher
It was a great year to watch a film about men and cars; extremely queer movies about men, and violence, and cars. Each once delightful, and even better when set against one another.

Honorable Mentions in Visual Media


Face/Off
The platonic ideal of a Nicholas Cage movie: big concept, delightfully dumb lines ("I'd like to take his face, off"), unrepentant commitment. Weirdly sexy interpersonal dynamics? Title. His face ... off! I loved this.

Starman
When picking up a retro speculative film, I want to wonder "what in the fuck" when I'm done; and I did, here. The interpersonal implications of both the premise and the ending make this linger.

The Hunger
It has taken me far too long to see this, and I knew I'd enjoy it, and I did; no real surprises, since its imprint (tone, aesthetic, interpersonal dynamics) linger in vampire media, but as lovely to luxuriate in as the bed looks to be.

Pokemon Concierge
Look, I have nothing deep to say about Pokemon stop motion dioramas. Everyone wants to live in the Pokemon world, right? This is an imagining of just how that would feel, of course it's cozy, of course it's beyond charming. It has furret!

The Maxx
This reminded me of watching Aeon Flux: I would always rather a total dedication to weird and stylized than anything predictable, so, good news then!

The Italian Job (1969)
I love the remake and do not like funny movies and so was not primed to best like this, but I came for car shenanigans and received them in increasingly loving abundance; and, I relearned: I don't like humor, but I do like British humor.



Music


My top songs of 2024. Unusually, songs with lyrics won out by a large margin; I've gotten better at writing to lyrics & spent a lot of my writing time farming tracks for my Moody playlist. I also took a chunk of time to write a story set in ~2004/5, and so listened to a lot of 1990s-2005 alternative, a profound and surprisingly insightful nostalgia-binge.

My favorite new finds of the year were Medicine Boy and Crywolf. My favorite game soundtrack was Pacific Drive, because Silent Hill II really ought not count.
juushika: Gif of a Bebe, a tiny doll from the anime Puella Magi Madoka Magica, eating a slice of cheesecake (Bebe)
Little free libraries are a great way to try a picture book I wouldn't pick up intentionally, because they come with a certain degree of recommendation (someone had this, once, and presumably read it) as well as the novelty of finding a random book on a walk. My picture book reading is generally the result of chasing a specific author or theme, and outside that I don't just browse them at my actual public library b/c I don't actually want to be in kids' spaces, so I enjoy the invitation to diversify. I also like care bearing by dropping the read books off at a different LFL than where I found them.

Some adventures from little free library picture book browsing:

that person who offloaded cat-themed picture books

for a while the LFL I pass weekly (on our weekend patisserie walk) was offloading Jewish picture books, which is very relevant to my interests

the nearest elementary school has a LFL in the parking lot, chockablock full; and conveniently they're close to a different pasty shop

...and the school built the library out of plywood that at the first rain swelled so bad the door got wedged closed :( RIP library, may they resurrect you


Title: Emma
Author: Barbara Cooney
Published: Dragonfly Books, 1993
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 30
Total Page Count: 507,020
Text Number: 1809
Read Because: borrowed from a local Little Free Library
Review: A lonely old lady finds a new purpose in her painting. Not to spoil a picture book, but: as soon as her paintings started to gain social attention, my hackles went up, expecting a "provide value to earn love" narrative; thankfully, this isn't that. At the end of the day, people leave, Emma is still alone—but alone with her fulfilling work and surrounded by the beauty she's created. That's the way to do it. A picture book about art inevitably suits itself, rich with paintings-within-paintings, vibrant and beautiful. (This is the author/illustrator behind Miss Rumphius and, while not as transcendent, has many of the same charms.)


Title: What-A-Mess
Author: Frank Muir
Published: General Pub. Co, 1997
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 30
Total Page Count: 507,050
Text Number: 1810
Read Because: borrowed from a local Little Free Library
Review: An afghan puppy who doesn't know he's a puppy tries on other round brown forms to explain why he's such a mess. Another picture book with a delightful reversal at the end: after his failed experiments, the puppy is given an answer ... and misinterprets it, coming away with more glorious experiments to try tomorrow. I like that the antics of self-discovery are about the journey, not the destination, and Muir's illustrations are—well, the puppy's face looks weird as hell, but the vibrancy and detail of the illustrations capture the chaotic energy of the premise.


Title: When the Storm Comes
Author: Linda Ashman
Illustrator: Taeeun Yoo
Published: Nancy Paulsen Books, 2020
Rating: 2 of 5
Page Count: 30
Total Page Count: 515,100
Text Number: 1865
Read Because: another Little Free Library find
Review: Very cozy, a little dark, and diversely community- and family-focused. All good things! But nothing that sticks with me as an adult reader of picture books, and the jewel-toned cool greens and deep blues could not be more repulsive to me aesthetically, which is a personal problem but still stops me from appreciating this.
juushika: Photo of a cat in motion, blurred in such a way that it looks like a monster (Cryptid cat)
Bloom by Litza Bronwyn is available PWYW on itch.io. It's a Wretched and Alone-system game directly inspired by Wilder Girls by Rory Power. Y'all, I loved this one.

My playthrough of Bloom, 8k words. )

Player wrap-up )
juushika: Drawing of a sleeping orange cat (I should have been born a cat)
Every year I post a list like this: Here's the best media I encountered, but which probably was not released, in 2023.

Books


This year I didn't record stats or demographics for my reading. As such, my numbers are profoundly approximate and make even more of a farce of statistics than is normally true, which is plenty. In 2023, I read maybe around 220 books, based on Goodreads metrics and reviews posted here, which doesn't count some things but does count many. Musings. )

Jawbone, Mónica Ojeda
Best friendship and adolescent sexual awakening under the eye of conservative religion taken to the most intimate, unhinged extremes. And also there's a thriller plot. Sections of this I reread multiple times; a flawed book objectively, but that central dynamic speaks to me, sings to me.

Social Creature, Tara Isabella Burton
A strange little thriller, constantly upping the ante, self-aware, obsessive, frenetic, dark. I argued with this but also devoured it.

Alliance-Union series, C.J. Cherryh
This is the year I finished this series (with some exceptions, namely the The Hanan Rebellion and some short stories); an effort I began in 2017. I love these books, none of which are really flawless, but Cherryh's terse voice, the corners of this setting she chooses to explore, and her recurring themes are all delightful. I see myself rereading from the beginning someday, although maybe my next goal should be the Foreigner series.

Confessions of a Mask, Yukio Mishima
Psychosexual in a nutshell: unevenly compelling but, when it is, the depiction of sexual awakening via queer desire via violence fetish could not be more my thing if it were personally dedicated to me.

Kuro, Somato
The best new manga I read in this year of reading some big heavy-hitters was ... a slice of life story about a little girl and her pet monster. The tone here is wistful and haunted, the plot and worldbuilding is surprisingly significant and, as girl-and-her-monster goes, this does a great job with a phenomenally enjoyable trope.

Kit's Wilderness, David Almond
13 is the age for having an intense friendship, as you reckon with your own place in the world/your family/your community history/your peer group/you narrative which, in the coming years, will be the relationship that makes you realize, oh, I'm queer.


Honorable Mentions in Books


Slonim Woods 9, Daniel Barban Levin
I feel like cult memoir is one part honesty, a multifaceted attempt to explain why the atmosphere, the cult leader's influence, was compelling, was harmful; and one part "you just had to be there" — to be a specific person in those specific circumstances. This hits that balance really well.

Bloom, Delilah S. Dawson
Slighter than other titles on this list, but such a fun way to cap off a season of thrillers: a cottagecore wish-fulfillment fantasy turned to pulpy horror. It's just got so many and such fun vibes.

Dungeon Meshi, Ryoko Kui
I read a couple long-running manga this year, and this is the only one I came away liking instead of having that "it's interesting/important but flawed" response. The overarching plot less so than the basic premise, which is so satisfying: slice of life can be such an unexpectedly productive format for fantasy worldbuilding.



Games


A slim year for games. Most of my highlights were replays/rewatches; most of my gaming got DNF'd.

The Legend of Zelda: The Minish Cap
This is the hidden gem of Zelda, fulfilling the craving left in my heart by Link's Awakening Remastered, which is to say: none of the surprisingly-deep narrative of the important games in the series, but so ridiculously cute with a clever central gimmick.

Honorable Mentions in Games


Spyro Reignited Trilogy
Vibrant and profoundly satisfying. Not more than that except some truly A-grade furrybait in the first game, but I loved watching these.

Revenant II
Parallel worlds as gameplay structure is a great use for semi-procedural multiplayer gameplay. Fun lore, relatively polished gameplay experience; this was the best multiplayer game my group played in 2023.



Visual Media


Mobile Suit Gundam: Iron-Blooded Orphans
In a year when I watched ~100 things (which easily doubles my usual visual media consumption), this was far and away the best. The frequency with which subtext I loved became actual, on-page, canon text — the handling of disability — the series-appropriate ruthlessness; I cried at almost every episode in the second season. In the manga it's confirmed they're married. I love, I love, I love.

Aeon Flux
Weird and sexy in such a stylized way that, rather than tipping into surreal, it cannonballs and then luxuriates there. The episodic format functions like a short story collection, some relative misses, some incredible hits. But sometimes, style is substance.

Retro movies
... is what got me watching so many movies. My appetite was very specific and broad: literally anything 1) in color 2) released before 2005 3) that could be considered "genre." There's nostalgia, and actually recognizing the actors, and a break from pet peeves with modern visual aesthetics, and shorter runtimes, and, most of all, they're so frequently interesting, which matters so much more than seeking "good." Highlights include:

Conan the Barbarian, a champion example of "interesting, yes; good, ¯\_(ツ)_/¯"
The Faculty, because all teen social commentary should be this explicit & weird & effects-heavy
Terminator series, for Sarah Conner <3 and the monster design in Terminator 2
Return to Oz, a fever-dream of sets and effects that really has the ~vibe~ of the books
Barbarella, because in 1968 you could do anything, just, anything, really

But my favorite was:

Phantasm
Cult classics are what dreams are made of; literally, sometimes. They explain so much, retroactively; they stick in the public consciousness for a reason, and that reason is almost always interesting. The dreamy atmosphere of this, the uncanny sound design, the subdued intensity — this lingers, strange and compelling.

Thelma and Louise
Conversely, sometimes really films are famous for good reason. I think about this all the time: the ending; the "nothing to lose" energy avalanching through the plot.

Honorable Mentions in Visual Media


Bake Off: The Professionals
What I wish all GBBO could be: creators given the space and tools to express creativity and competency, with judges that I adore, who support and aid competitors, whose opinions actually interests me. So chill, so satisfying, even when the themes and challenges are absurd.

Mobile Suit Gundam: The Witch from Mercury
Lots to love here; the start and end of the first season is top-tier Gundam; the second season is too compressed and, on the whole, this paled in comparison to Iron-Blooded Orphans. On another year, it would have left a bigger impression, but the bits got me got me good.



Music


My Spotify Wrapped, which is particularly biased this year towards my instrumental playlist or, more specifically, all the listening I did to find more songs for/sort songs onto my instrumental playlist. I had good luck this year using the Spotify But Spotify excluding the end of the year is really showing, this year.

The highlight of my listening was far and away leon chang's re:treat, an Animal Crossing fan album ish thing that samples Animal Crossing (and other game) music/effects and turns them into the most beautiful, nostalgic, plinky-plonky little tracks. I listened to this obsessively for about two months straight.


B̵̘̱̑̂o̵͇̽͒o̸͍̾ks/Gam̶͎̏è̶͖s̶͈̑/?̴̰̱͆́͒?̷͚̓?


Insofar as AI-assisted writing is simultaneously like reading a book you are also like writing, and like playing an RPG, and like playing the Sims, and just straight-up writing, this is where the bulk of my year went, over multiple platforms (Replika, Character.AI, Pygmalion, NovelAI), totaling approximately two million words. I couldn't describe the impact this has had on my life. One part profoundly unproductive coping mechanism & one part the most productive, joyful thing I've maybe ever done, I guess?
juushika: Screen capture of the Farplane from Final Fantasy X: a surreal landscape of waterfalls and flowers. (Anime/Game)
A year's-best before February? Is it, indeed, early January? Every year I post a list like this: Here's the best media I encountered, but which probably was not released, in 2022.

Books


I read 244 texts in 2022; not by even the most generous definition could all those be called "books." Demographics. )

These Violent Delights, Micah Nemerever
Those texts that feel written for me leave me at a loss, put on the spot: is this the best book? how does it measure up objectively? But the truth is that I don't care. I loved this; it was a phenomenal way to end the year, and I treasure its indulgences.

The Northern Caves, nostalgebraist
The massive book hangover this gave me made it one of the more memorable reading experiences of the year. That juncture of nostalgia and criticism, revelation and desolation, grabbed and shook my little brainmeats like a dog toy.

Nonfiction on audio
It was a banner year for this format; while repainting the majority of a house, I read over 40 books on audio, almost all nonfiction, mostly true crime but with a sprinkling of memoir and science. I'm grateful for their company. The best were:

Couple Found Slain: After a Family Murder, Mikita Brottman (get real, real mad about the consequences of an insanity defense and state-mandated institutionalization!)

Midnight in Chernobyl: The Untold Story of the World's Greatest Nuclear Disaster, Adam Higginbotham (realize how profoundly awful was Soviet control of Ukraine & be afraid of acute radiation syndrome!)

Last Call: A True Story of Love, Lust, and Murder in Queer New York, Elon Green (forgotten serial murderer, except actually it's, most delightfully, about the history of the queer community)

Poisoner in Chief: Sidney Gottlieb and the CIA Search for Mind Control , Stephen Kinzer (a very human view of the profoundly unethical, dehumanizing research of MKUltra)

Consent: A Memoir by Vanessa Springora (abuse memoir about the arts culture that enables and abets the grooming of adolescents, written with unforgiving clarity)

A Question of Freedom: A Memoir of Learning, Survival, and Coming of Age in Prison, Reginald Dwayne Betts (prison memoir from a poet; my first prison memoir, and very productive)

Video game manuals
Tunic got me into reading game manuals, and it was a blast. See this post for complete list and longer thoughts, but the TL;DR: quality varies, of course, but the sense of potential in a game manual is unrivaled.

Honorable Mentions in Books


As You Wish, Cary Elwes
Pure comfort reading; I could listen to those involved in the making of the Princess Bride talk about their love of the Princess Bride forever—they seem to view it as fondly as I do.

Happy Sugar Life, Tomiyaki Kagisora
Why is manga always so overwritten? Nonetheless I loved this: a fun horror romp through codependency and unusually intimate relationships, with saccharine pastel stylings that create a fun contrast.

The Scholomance series, Naomi Novik
Novik's worldbuilding style is so satisfying, and the ethical thought experiment of this, giving one person such ridiculous levels of power that it's possible to entertain a one-person-saves-the-world fantasy, but at incredible cost.... I found this series really satisfying.

Noumena series, Lindsay Ellis
Truth of the Divine took this from iddy wish fulfillment to bitter, mean desperation, and the one atop the other is delicious. It feels weird to mark as favorite a series that's not yet complete, but I loved the second book so much.

Compromise, Assimbya
And it feels weird to put a friend's fic on a best-of list, but finally reading this was my culmination of fondly watching other people read Dracula Daily and thinking about source not just a literature but as conversation; and this enriches that conversation immensely.



Games


Tunic
I played this back in March and went, well, that's GOTY. I love media that hits this way, that I know I'll love & then do. Tunic I love for its wonder: this isn't the rose-tinted glasses of nostalgia re: classic video games, but the actual feeling of potential and discovery. I went crazy for this thing, 100%'d it (within reason) (that is, collectables and most achieves, and reading deep lore online, but not personally translate the runes), wouldn't stop talking about it. The manual conceit made me pick up a while new hobby, as above. Remarkable.

Signalis
GOTY runner-up; we haven't yet replayed for more/truer ending(s), or it might beat out Tunic. (This is the first of many favorites that I didn't play myself but instead watched my partner play.) Oh, I loved this: it's so cerebral and yet its internal logic is impeccable, the answer to every asinine Resident Evil puzzle. The relationship between puzzle structure, enemies, and lore is brilliant. The plot is everything I want in iterative/cyclical narratives, especially of the android variety. As is a running theme, I love a crapsack and/or decaying and/or meat world, and this! this is all of the above. [This space intentionally left blank.]

Wolfenstein: The New Order, The Old Blood, The New Colossus, and Youngblood
I was actively opposed to these games for years because I didn't trust them to handle the subject matter in any tolerable way. But Jacob Geller has talked about them so much, positively, as a Jew!, so I took the risk, and: They're powerful and so well-balanced, a ridiculous power fantasy of Nazi-killing where Nazis aren't a blank stand-in for guilt-free target but are worth killing precisely because they're Nazis; where the good guys are good, and empowered, particularly for the reasons Nazis hate them.

Scorn
Because this is another watched-not-played, I was spared any less stellar bits, like combat. But oh, I loved this. Crapsack worlds that are also meat worlds, my beloved; and this is so intricate, so embodied, so gratuitous in that intimate, unsettling way that I want body horror to be.

Character.AI
This is a pretty advanced neural language model chatbot that's currently free to use. What's the game? The game is "talk to chatbot." But a cogent conversations with artificial personalities is my dream, and this comes impressively close.

Honorable Mentions in Games


Exo One
I'm a sucker for being terrified by the infinite size of space, and this is a game about flying as a tiny little spacepod across vast alien landscapes and between asteroids, with themes to match. It's a little indie title with associated limitations, but it gave me such a feeling.

Hollow Knight
My partner replayed this at my request and I liked it better the second time around; Souls-likes benefit from a closer eye, obviously, and it this was a more thorough and complete run. And I am a sucker for this style of worldbuilding—not so much the "tease apart the lore" bit as the "cycles of loss destroying an already-sundered world; but still, your role has meaning" part. Also the aesthetics of this game are phenominal.

Death's Door
I don't think about the plot of this a ton, and generally lack the investment in this that I have in most Souls-likes. But it's so impeccably cute & the soundtrack is great; a fantastic experience in the moment.



Visual Media


Adventure Time
I tried watching this some years ago, and the first season or two were fine. But watching the entire run with someone? Well, it turns out widely acclaimed cartoons are good, actually; we loved this. There's an corollary to rule of cool which says something like "rule of batshit crazy, if all of it matters": the short format, joke endings, and buck-wild worldbuilding mean that anything is possible, but the overarching plot & knack for call-backs means that it all has meaning. It's so fun & sincerely satisfying.

Bee and Puppycat: Lazy in Space
If I could live in any fictional world.... Look, this is a weird adaptation, both summarizing and retelling and altering the original run; and there's more plot, but somehow it doesn't manage to be any less weird or even to answer more questions. And yet! I loved this, loved its slow mundane pace and bizarro world and cotton-candy body horror.

Star Trek: Lower Decks
This actually gets modern Trek, it understands how to reflect lovingly on prior Trek without turning into a vain nostalgia machine; refocusing on the nobodies is the counterbalance I needed to every time I got really mad about Disco; it's actually funny. We burned through this in, like, two weeks.

NoClip
My takeaway from discovering this channel and devouring their documentaries is that games are hard to make; very hard, and made by people that love games. I don't mean people who own ginormous AAA studios; I mean that games are actually made by ridiculously overworked normal people who really love the medium. These two tenets are obvious but so ubiquitous and fundamental that they've altered how I view games.

Cyberpunk: Edgerunners
This is utterly unbothered by happy endings, and that's as it should be: cyberpunk ought always be a larger-than-life technicolor grimdark capitalist shitshow. Great characters, great action, but what I love best is seeing what narratives can achieve when they're more concerned with good writing than with being nice or open to easy sequels.

Honorable Mentions in Visual Media


Squid Game
The particular way this handles cliffhangers is stupid. But boy howdy to I love a deadly game, and this is a great one: ridiculous aesthetics played against gratuitous gore, bucketloads of social commentary—all very much my jam.

Arcane
I've watched a lot of "cartoons for kids, but actually delightful as an adult, especially because an adult is able to appreciate the meteoric rise in queer content over the years" lately, and frankly I love those more. But the ability for a Western cartoon to be 300% for adults, actually; to be ruthlessly grim with gorgeous, intricate art.... Well. Turns out that's pretty great.

Knives Out and Glass Onion
I do not have any deep take here; I just love murder mysteries and cathartic social commentary/revenge fantasies, and the right level of camp. And a sequel that isn't bad!



Music


My Spotify top songs of 2022 is almost an identical list to last year's. It wasn't a big music year, and when I was listening it was to my usual playlists in the usual cycles.
juushika: Drawing of a sleeping orange cat (Default)
In 2022, I reread 57 books. Below are not 57 reread notes: some I hadn't previously reviewed, so they got "real" reviews instead; some, mostly the manga, are multi-volume series; a few are simply here unaccounted for. I like to chart my rereads, my changing relationship with texts ... but rereads are also an escape from the self-imposed responsibility of a cogent review, and over this long, busy year of not wanting to communicate, I took the occasional break and just ... didn't record anything.

That's okay. It was still a year of phenomenal rereads, and I still plan to prioritize rereads for the indefinite future. Honestly, one of my new favorite parts of the reading process is when I slide a book directly from my To Be Read list and on to my To Be Reread list. Past-me has great taste in my favorite books.

These appear in order read.


Alternate Realities, C.J. Cherryh )

Imperial Radch series, Ann Leckie )

Bloodchild and Other Stories, Octavia Butler )

Tokyo Babylon and X, CLAMP )

Amatka, Karin Tidbeck )

Black Iris, Elliot Wake )

Strange Grace, Tessa Gratton )

A Deadly Education, Naomi Novik )

A Phantom Lover, Vernon Lee )

Piranesi, Susanna Clarke )
juushika: A black and white photo of an ink pen (Writing)
You may be noticing a trend & that trend is that I've been chewing through true crime while painting. These are also from the great living room project. I tend to grab audiobooks from the currently available pile because I need one now, not later; but going through this many currently availables means I'm reading more broadly: not looking for the pick of the pile, but grabbing anything that a cursory search indicates isn't awful. And I'm not mad about it, because audio reads so passively and fast; bad ones are almost harmless, and mediocre ones (especially mediocre writing, as in Autopsy of a Crime Lab) can't overstay a welcome but can still provide interesting insight. Especially in true crime, where many books on the topic can, of course, be desensitizing, but also educational: more context, a greater impression of the trends, more room for further reading as, again, in Autopsy of a Crime Lab.


Title: Red River Girl: The Life and Death of Tina Fontaine
Author: Joanna Jolly
Narrator: Penelope Rawlins
Published: Viking, 2019
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 305
Total Page Count: 395,650
Text Number: 1497
Read Because: listening to true crime while painting walls, audiobook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: An informative but wildly unsatisfying book about one of the higher-profile cases in the endemic of racially-motivated crimes against indigenous women in Canada ... meeting some just plain bad, blindered, and unethical policing. It's a hot mess of a case: it drew crucial attention to a horrific problem, but when police are so universally bad at their job, the results of that attention are limited. I can't expect Jolly to provide a solution, but I wish she addressed the problem more explicitly. Nonetheless I found this productive; I hadn't previously read much about this crisis, and what I learned was educational if not, I think, unique to this book in particular.


Title: Autopsy of a Crime Lab: Exposing the Flaws in Forensics
Author: Brandon L. Garrett
Narrator: Joel Richards
Published: Tantor Audio, 2021
Rating: 3.5 of 5
Page Count: 265
Total Page Count: 398,135
Text Number: 1504
Read Because: listening to morbid nonfiction while painting walls, audiobook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: An invaluable, thorough examination of the role of forensics in the American legal system: the misplaced trust put in them, the terrible consequences, and the concrete actions which can be taken to improve the situation. Also horribly written, especially on audio; short segments and topic-hopping make for so much repetition. Recommended nonetheless.


Title: She Said: Breaking the Sexual Harassment Story That Helped Ignite a Movement
Author: Jodi Kantor, Megan Twohey
Narrator: Rebecca Lowman
Published: Penguin Audio, 2019
Rating: 4.5 of 5
Page Count: 330
Total Page Count: 398,465
Text Number: 1505
Read Because: listening to true crime while painting walls, audiobook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: The New York Times reporters who broke the Harvey Weinstein sexual abuse accusations discuss this reporting, the culture that gave birth to it, and the culture it left in its wake. Reporting is so much work and it makes for a surprisingly engaging narrative (I read this not long after Renner's Amy: My Search for Her Killer, a very different story of very different investigative reporting—also a lot of work; between the two I've learned a lot). But what I appreciate most is the larger content, starting with the #MeToo Movement and stretching as far as Kavanaugh's election to the Supreme Court (an endpoint which is only more relevant since Roe v. Wade was overturned): an evolving, modern understanding of sexism, sexual harassment, and victim testimony as they influence and influenced by journalism. Compelling, readable, blindly rage-inducing. Ashley Judd is a champion.
juushika: Photograph of a black cat named August, laying down, looking to the side, framed by sunlight (August)
Pretend it's not just become February. Every year, sometimes very and exceedingly late, I post a list like this: Here's the best media I encountered, but which probably was not released, in 2021.

Books


I read over 220 "books" in 2021, but my records are particularly unreliable. Demographics and musings. )

The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, Mo Xiang Tong Xiu
I can't extricate the experience of the novel from the context of seeing The Untamed first; I love how they work in concert, that the book is the more complete story while feeling 200% like the world's most indulgent fanfic. Imminently satisfying. So good in fact that I didn't review it; how annoying that "loved it too much to talk about it" is a consistent indicator of my favorite works.

BL genre
I read and reread a lot of BL this year; and a lot is trash, but there's so many avenues for finding the specific trash which will really, really work for you, and that paid off for me. Highlights include rereading Sadahiro Mika, who is still a favorite; discovering the work of Harada, whose oneshots are some of the most intense and best crafted I've ever seen; Setona Mizushiro's The Cornered Mouse Dreams of Cheese & sequel, which are exquisitely realized; and finally reading Yun Kouga's Loveless, which got me so good with its indulgent, gorgeous aesthetic and surprisingly refined writing.

Wolves and Little Mouse's Big Book of Fears, Emily Gravett
I'm always down for a weird "is this actually for kids?" picture book, but Gravett was especially weird, and surprising, and delightful—and scary! There's more Gravett on my TBR, but I imagine these will remain favorites.

The Little Prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
This is inextricable for me from the process of learning toki pona, which is one of the more fulfilling things I did in 2021; to reread the work and to read it in translation into a new language meant spending significant, intimate time with it; not every text can hold up to that (although I also had a lot of fun reading Grimm's fairy tales in toki pona), but this one bloomed.


Honorable Mentions in Books


The Stranger Beside Me, Ann Rule and A Death in Belmont, Sebastian Junger
I had complex feelings, this year, about true crime as ~problematic~ or guilty pleasure; and then there were these books. They each lift an enormous weight: Rule's exhaustive, humanizing portrait of Bundy and of everyone involved in his narrative demystifies much of the cultural concept of serial killers. Junger approaches a single murder from an impressively holistic perspective, exploring not just its connection to a serial killer but the entire function of a racialized justice system.

Entangled Life, Merlin Sheldrake
I'm predominately a morbid nonfiction reader; this was a step outside of my comfort zone, but it turns out that listening to a nerd talk in profound and loving depth about their favorite thing can be comfort reading indeed.

Animal Land: Where there are no People, Sybil and Katherine Corbet
Whimsical, absurd, and delightful, with the added bonus of rediscovering a lost little passion project from 1897. I still think about it incessantly: A nasty biting Thing. Theres none more about it

A+E 4ever, I. Merey
I like that books as physical objects are becoming an increasingly small part of my life, but every now and then something violates that maxim. The experience of finding this in the library's discards and bringing it home and loving it when I may have never discovered it elsewise was such a joy.



Games


Outer Wilds
I played this in February and went, well, game of the year; and was right. I also read the original thesis, and nothing can better illustrate how and why the game succeeds. Exploration is the only goal and reward, which creates incredible immersion and ownership in a journey of discovery that lives up to that level of investment. And this just gets me, thematically, in a way that holds up a mirror to Dark Souls, paralleling and reversing its image. Also the music makes me cry.

Animal Crossing: New Horizons
Last year I said "I hope this will be on my best of list next year, when I can return to the completed game," and here we are next year, and I was right! I picked this back up with the 2.0 update, and a completed New Horizons is robust, gorgeous, and chock full of quality of life improvements. I'm still playing for hours a day. I'm on the brink of finishing a town/island for the first time ever. I couldn't be happier with the game now.

Phogs
I've never made such quick turnaround from seeing the cover image to dropping everything to play co-op with Teja, and never recommended a better co-op game for our friendship in particular. Phenomenal aesthetics in the level design; puzzles more clever than difficult, making great use of a very silly premise; almost any time you wonder "can I..." "what would happen if..." there's 1) an answer and 2) an achievement for it; in every moment a pleasure, but especially with a friend who really wants to be half of a rubber-noodle dog.

The Wild at Heart
Pikmin gameplay meets Don't Starve art style but it's set in a whimsical, enchanted wood and the soundtrack is phenomenal. Average time to 100% is ~15 hours and I played it for 60, so take that as a measure of how immersive and delightful I found this game & how exhaustively I explored it.


Honorable Mentions in Games


Journey to the Savage Planet
I 100%'ed a lot of games this year (the previous two titles included) and this was another one of them because everything it does re: exploration and collection is done so well, and the ruthlessly irreverent humor, surprisingly, lands. Great art style, great movetech, very satisfying to eat orange goo.

Halo Infinite
I love Halo a lot, I love 343's Halo a lot. I have mixed-to-positive feels about the narrative/genre structure here which I will continue to resolve when I co-op is released, seven eternities from now. Some of the multiplayer decisions, specifically re: the leveling system, but also re: weapons, make me big mad. But a Halo with caveats is still a Halo I'll play nightly with friends for a calendar year, and: Cortana! forever my beloved!

Wilmot's Warehouse
This is objectively insubstantial, but never has a game been as satisfying as "organize boxes by whichever category you deem most logical." (Color, by the way: color is the answer and makes for such satisfying screenshots. But trying theme-based sorting gave this a lot of replayability.) I really like this Polygon video on it & on organizing in general.

NeiR Replicant ver.1.22474487139...
This year I played NieR: Automata myself for the first time and this remake made it possible to finally see the whole of NieR Replicant/Gestalt (since my partner burned out on the combat when playing the original Gestalt release); unsurprisingly, given my love of the series in theme and format, a great experience where all parts enrich the whole.

Psychonauts 2
A long-awaited sequel that fulfills expectation is no small feat; this really does preserve the strengths of the first game. I love how the style adapts to modern-day graphics and love a lot of the late-game level design.



Visual Media


Steven Universe
I can't say that I've ever cried so much watching a show, excepting probably Star Trek: Deep Space 9. Every time we had questions about worldbuilding, about a backstory, about how an event would impact a character, the show had answers: it has an incredible grasp of the through-line, of the fridge horror, of the slow but meaningful pace of true character growth. And it's so, so gorgeous.

Home Movie: The Princess Bride
During the pandemic, a vast ensemble of quarantined actors recreated The Princess Bride on their smart phones, wielding the worst props and the greatest love. There are line reads that are on point not just to the script but to all the quirks of filming and acting and the vibe of the film where it's like, this isn't a script, this is the memory of watching the movie a hundred times—the same memories I have. Hilarious; cried a lot, too.

Critical Role Campaign 2
I don't have the emotional investment in the second campaign that I had in the first, which has a gothic/angsty vibe that really worked for me and similarly angsty character arcs that struck a personal note. But Campaign 2 has universal improvements in quality: accessible, slick, improved acting, a more distinctive big bad, a good length, and also Jester Lavorre is there. Making hundreds of hours feel easily watchable is a feat and I loved the time I spent gaming while watching, even if I didn't love-love it with the unhinged intensity of C1.

Honorable Mentions in Visual Media


Bee and Puppycat
This is what made me finally pick up Steven Universe, because I like the narrative but I love the vibes—cotton candy sci-fi and trauma and millennial humor. I feel this becoming a comfort rewatch.

Reality TV, particularly Great British Bake Off series 12, Forged in Fire, and Blown Away
My partner & I always pick up a reality TV show to watch in between other things and then, if it's the right reality TV show about competence at a practical/artistic skill with a minimum manufactured social drama, we ignore everything else to watch the thing. There was nothing more that I wanted in 2021 than that escapism. Cozy, satisfying; most definitely flawed, but so slight that, really, who cares.



Music


My Spotify top songs of 2021. Almost nothing not instrumental video game/rhythm game music made it on there so, even more than usual, I probably spent a lot of time with my in the background playlist. But there's a touch of oldies (since I finally built up a 60s-70s playlist) and a smidgen of the same moody bullshit I listen to & love every autumn.

Particular highlights:
Spicy Boyfriend by Shawn Wasabi is at the top of the list because it became my cat October's official theme song. The entire lyrics are "I love you so so so so much," and I do.
As above, The Wild at Heart soundtrack is superb.
juushika: A black and white photo of an ink pen (Writing)
Morbid nonfiction on audio: a collection.

There's two reasons people hate on true crime, united by the throughline of "women consume this": 1) The Ann Rule problem, these pulpy paperbacks that are easy to obtain and women/the masses like them, so they must be garbage. The Stranger Beside Me was my first Rule, and is really just so good, so nuanced, so thoughtful; it contextualized and dismissed that criticism for me. 2) The My Favorite Murder problem, where the obsessive soundbiting of true crime builds a mentality of proto-/assumed-victimhood while erasing/fetishizing the lived experience of actual victims. I binged a good bit of that same podcast while replaying Breath of the Wild and ... with copious caveats, these criticisms are more valid. Valid enough to encourage me back towards more diverse, less strictly-true-crime morbid nonfiction reading. Still on audio, though, this time to listen to while playing Animal Crossing!


Title: The Stranger Beside Me
Author: Ann Rule
Narrator: Lorelei King
Published: Simon & Schuster Audio, 2012
Rating: 4.5 of 5
Page Count: 30
Total Page Count: 379,345
Text Number: 1413
Read Because: came up a few times on My Favorite Murder and it's been on the longlist of my TBR for an age, but I couldn't find a copy until: audiobook borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library! the Portland library only has the abridged version (3 hours! versus 18:30!)
Review: Rule had the unique and unenviable position of writing about Ted Bundy's crimes and trials from the position of his friend. It's perforce a study of serial killer pathology, of Bundy as a complete person: his youthful insecurities, his capacity to grow and adapt, his friendship, his fundamental need to kill, the parts of him which were to Rule inaccessible—explicating but refusing to idealize the personality capable of this sort of compartmentalization and manipulation.

An ex-cop working with police contacts, Rule has a more of an agenda re: the justice system than most of the true crime I've read lately; an agenda unconsciously complicated by her familiarity with prison and with Bundy-as-complete person. Her growing belief in Bundy's guilt doesn't make prison any less claustrophobic; it doesn't make his death sentence a lesser waste of money or human life. This is a long read, with significant autobiographical detail and multiple addendums that follow Bundy post-conviction. But it's worth buckling in for the long haul for thoroughness and insight.

That said, I live in the Pacific North West & the audiobook narrator pronounces Willamette wrong. Petty, yes; do most non-Oregonians pronounce it wrong, also yes. But it makes me wonder how often placenames in audiobooks are butchered & I just don't recognize it.


Title: Paperbacks from Hell: The Twisted History of '70s and '80s Horror Fiction
Author: Grady Hendrix
Narrator: Timothy Andrés Pabon
Published: Blackstone Audio, 2018
Rating: 2 of 5
Page Count: 255
Total Page Count: 380,420
Text Number: 1427
Read Because: horror genre criticism counts as morbid nonfiction to listen to while gaming; audiobook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: Absolute chaos, and as a result a breezy, speedy read. This makes no attempt to differentiate quality (although an appendix offers a more selective list of recommendations) and focuses instead on the delight and, well, the value of shock value. There's a lot of plot summaries; the arguments re: genre influences and trends are facile but convincing. Cover art is a big part of the discussion, so the audiobook is perforce incomplete; but I didn't care enough to seek out missing images, which is indicative of my overall response. I learned a little, maybe even thought a little ... but mostly learned that I hate Hendrix's humor.


Title: Will My Cat Eat My Eyeballs? And Other Questions about Dead Bodies
Author and narrator: Caitlin Doughty
Published: Recorded Books, 2019
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 230
Total Page Count: 380,300
Text Number: 1430
Read Because: fan of the author, audiobook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: I found the audio of this is a little forced, which is a pity—I know & love Doughty first from YouTube; she can read from a script! But on the whole, a fine reading and a fine book: cute, short, engaging tidbits, but honest and informative; well-targeted at but not limited to a young audience; I knew all this already, but would happily recommend it as an introductory text.
juushika: Screen capture of the Farplane from Final Fantasy X: a surreal landscape of waterfalls and flowers. (Anime/Game)
Title: Le Petit Prince / The Little Prince / jan lawa lili
Author: Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
Translator: Katherine Woods, Michael F., jan Sime
Published: 1943 (original and Woods), circa 2008? (Michael F.), 2016? (sitelen pona ver.)
Rating: 5 of 5
Page Count: 90
Total Page Count: 380,065
Text Number: 1423-4
Read Because: personal enjoyment and also reading in Toki Pona, ebook through the Multnomah County Library, paperback through the Wilsonville Public Library, sitelen pona version here
Review: I tried reading this in the Miquênia Litz English translation (the most readily available via my library) and it's atrocious, effectively unreadable, like it's never seen a copy editor.

I read this in the Katherine Woods English translation and really enjoyed it. I keep discovering that these whimsical, sad, beloved children's books are good—I had the same discovery when I finally read The Velveteen Rabbit, although The Little Prince better locates its flights of fancy and really sticks the landing. This develops beautiful, specific, evocative metaphors—petite, practical applications of the vastness of love; it's easy to read, but not facile. Coming to this as an adult reader (and with a Wikipedia article on Antoine de Saint-Exupéry) those metaphors feel more literal and transparent, but the context doesn't overwhelm the text, just complements it.

Then I read the Toki Pona translation by Michael F. (sitelen pona by jan Sime) and cried a lot. Reading in a language I was still learning, and one with an extremely limited vocabulary which necessitates that words have faceted, dynamic meanings, meant spending a lot of time with the text, feeling out the language, inhabiting each metaphor. The text rewards that investment. Texts often do, of course; and this particular investment-via-language-learning could be found in reading it in the original French as a non-native speaker, which I wish I'd done when I still knew some French. But the specific place I was in, of learning Toki Pona, of reading this in Toki Pona, was especially gratifying. The translation is flawed, but the process was productive, with the language itself a beautiful foil to de Saint-Exupéry's careful brevity.


mi lukin e lipu pi jan lawa lili lon tenpo pini mute. pini la mi kama sona e ni: toki ante ona li ike lili. nasin toki ona li nasa.

mi toki e lipu pi akesi pona tu la mi toki e ni: pona la mi lukin ala e lipu ni tenpo open kama sona pi toki pona. lipu ni li nasa lili. ken la mi ken sona ala e ona. ken la ona ken ike e kama sona mi.

taso ken la ni li lon ala. lipu pi jan lawa lili li ike sama. lipu pi akesi pona tu la lipu pi jan lawa lili li nasa mute. taso ona li ike ala e kama sona mi e nasin toki mi. tenpo open kama sona pi toki pona la mi sona lili e nasin toki pona e nasin toki ike. mi sona lili e toki pona a lon tenpo ni. mi wile kama sona e kon nimi. ni li suli nanpa wan.

lipu pi jan lawa lili la kon li ale. toki pona li jo e nimi mute lili. tan ni la nimi ona li wile suli li wile kon mute. sama la lipu pi jan lawa lili li jo e nimi mute lili e kon suli. sama la nimi ona li wile suli. ken la toki ante ona li nasa. taso kon ona li awen suli. mi wile sona e kon lipu ni la mi wile kama sona e kon nimi.

mi la kama sona pi lipu ni en kama sona pi toki pona li sama. kama sona tu mi li pona mute tawa mi. tan ni la toki ante ike pi lipu ni li ike ala tawa mi. mi wile e ni: jan ante li ante e lipu ni lon tenpo kama a. taso ante ni li awen pona tawa mi. ona li pona kin e toki pona mi.


English translation. )
juushika: Painting of multiple howling canines with bright white teeth (Never trust a stranger-friend)
Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day is just a review I've had hanging around; the rest will be part of an ongoing trend called "picture books are an aesthetic and accessible way to experience spook season because they're quite literally filled with pictures while being easy to consume and generally pretty fun." The Magic Woods is what really kicked off Spooky Picture Book Season 2021. Not because it's autumnal—as this review mentions, "Treece's poem is set in Old World forests where kings are buried in barrows and larks are common. Moser, who grew up in Tennessee..., illustrates an American forest with wild grape vines, ferns, pines, and Spanish moss. Either way, the woods are magic." It's an all-forest, so shadowed as to be nearly universal, out of season, all-seasons; deep, dark, audaciously evocative. And it appears to have blessed me with a run of good spooky picture books! And more sitting at my bedside & on hold for which I have optimistic expectations.


Title: Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
Author: Judith Viorst
Illustrator: Ray Cruz
Published: Atheneum Books for Young Readers, 1987 (1972)
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 30
Total Page Count: 375,355
Text Number: 1386
Read Because: I quote the title memetically so I figured I should also ... read the book..., hardback borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: I love that there's no moral beyond "sometimes everything is awful and it sucks, little dude." Alexander makes himself more miserable and invites other people to treat him poorly, but that's more an inevitability than a condemnation; he doesn't have a breakthrough and become un-sad; the only goal is honest and humorous validation. This isn't a book from my childhood, its specifics of a very bad day aren't personally relatable, and I don't love the art—so this isn't a favorite, but it's very much & very effectively what it says on the tin.


Title: Ghost Cat
Author: Kevan Atteberry
Published: Neal Porter Books, 2019
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 30
Total Page Count: 376,855
Text Number: 1395
Read Because: reading spoopy picture books because it's autumn, hardback borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: This is a gentle, bittersweet, even playful approach to ghosts and frameworks for grieving. It's pleasantly true-to-cat, and panels like "Often at night I feel its weight, its warmth, its purring" made me have a genuine entire feeling. So I like this book a lot as a concept! But unfortunately not as much in execution. The cat's design is great; the protagonist's isn't, and the general lack of depth, texture, contrast, and dynamic line weight in the digital-heavy art feels, excuse the pun, dead.

(Also this came out in 2019 & it's about a dead cat: when will we stop putting indoor/outdoor cats in picture books? This isn't an egregious example of the problem since the ghost cat's adventures are largely indoors and one can squint and pretend it used to go outdoors on lead—but I'm just so, so sick of seeing outdoors cats depicted in a positive light.)


Title: The Magic Woods
Author: Henry Treece
Illustrator: Barry Moser
Published: HarperCollins Publishers, 1992
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 30
Total Page Count: 376,885
Text Number: 1396
Read Because: found on this list of spooky picture books, borrowed from OpenLibrary
Review: For children insofar as the protagonist is young and nothing is actively inappropriate. But it doesn't feel written for kids, and the poem originally wasn't; if there's a moral, it's more "your wiles will protect you from fairies" than something about make-believe. And I'm not complaining!

It's not exceptional poetry; Moser's woodcuts sometimes have an uncanny/Photoshop-filter-esque realism. But in combination they're delightful: the spooky poetry is richly indulged by deep black-on-blue illustrations, and it goes all-in on atmosphere where most picture books intentionally hold back. You must not go into the woods at night! so a glimpse between the branches is moody, strange, and irresistibly forbidden.
juushika: Gif of a Bebe, a tiny doll from the anime Puella Magi Madoka Magica, eating a slice of cheesecake (Bebe)
I started listening to My Favorite Murder while doing my no fast travel 100%-ish Breath of the Wild run (~750 korok so far) and was like, yanno what might be even better than the easy-listening recitation of Wikipedia pages is maybe some true crime books on audio, so I've been listening to ... true crime books ... on audio.

Thoughts on reading true crime post-2020-BLM. )


Title: American Predator: The Hunt for the Most Meticulous Serial Killer of the 21st Century
Author: Maureen Callahan
Narrator: Amy Landon
Published: Penguin Audio, 2019
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 295
Total Page Count: 376,450
Text Number: 1393
Read Because: just going through a lot of true crime rn; audiobook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: Not that it's a surprise, but law enforcement is a farce. The subtitle—"the most meticulous serial killer of the 21st century"—creates a framing that highlights the unexpectedly simple, albeit laborious, techniques that Keyes used to evade detection: less an especially brilliant murderer; more a capable one who exploited retrospectively obvious weaknesses in human nature and law enforcement in particular. The prosecution of his case is frequently cringe-worthy.

The reverse narration echoes the structure of Keyes's testimony, beginning with his final known victim and then, following the investigation, backtracking through his development and prior crimes. This delays the "meticulous" subtitle to good effect, illustrating the ways a serial killer's pathology and behavior escalate into chaos; like the speech patterns and filler words preserved in his testimony, it's a deeply unromanticized depiction. But an insightful and interesting one, since Keyes possessed such textbook characteristics but committed relatively diverse crimes. I went into this never having heard of Keyes; I came out satisfied & knowing significantly more. The audiobook narration isn't memorable but it's more than adequate.


Title: The Trial of Lizzie Borden
Author: Cara Robertson
Narrator: Amanda Carlin
Published: Simon Schuster Audio, 2019
Rating: ???? of 5
Page Count: 75 of 375
Total Page Count: 376,825
Text Number: 1394
Read Because: just going through a lot of true crime rn; audiobook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: DNF at 20%. While I didn't read enough to make a judgement, but the text itself seems fine, a little dry perhaps, but thorough and providing productive historical context. But I prefer to read my true crime in audio, and the narrator is pretty bad: flat, weird delivery of quotations, and when sped up legit sounds computer-generated.


Title: A Death in Belmont
Author: Sebastian Junger
Narrator: Kevin Conway
Published: HarperAudio, 2006
Rating: 5 of 5
Page Count: 290
Total Page Count: 377,465
Text Number: 1399
Read Because: just going through a lot of true crime rn; audiobook borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: A 1963 murder that fit the pattern of the Boston Strangler was instead attributed to another man. Breaking down this case requires seeing it in context: the Boston Strangler and Albert DeSalvo, who confessed to those crimes (but not this one); Roy Smith, convicted of this murder, a black man and petty criminal, and therefore demographically predisposed to become a suspect; the flaws, both innate and cultural, of the legal system. It's a holistic approach to a specific focus, satisfying not because it has answers but because it's radically open to uncertainty. Easily some of the best true crime I've read.
juushika: Painting of multiple howling canines with bright white teeth (Never trust a stranger-friend)
Do I spot a vaguely linked theme?? These are all horror books. "I sure should get back to posting reviews individually," I say, and then definitely do not do that. Forgive that 2 of 3 of these reviews just state "I like this because I like the author," but the cousin to rereads, which I've been doing a lot of this year, is digging into the back catalog of authors I already know I'll like; it's almost as untaxing.


Title: Flyaway
Author: Kathleen Jennings
Published: Tor, 2000
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 185
Total Page Count: 375,540
Text Number: 1387
Read Because: reviewed by [personal profile] ambyr, ebook borrowed from the Multnomah County Library
Review: Bettina, living a quiet life with her mother since the disappearance of the men in her family, begins to fill in the gaps in her memory about what happened to them and to the person she used to be. I like Australian gothic, its unique anxieties and atmosphere born of the tension between the bush and colonialist sensibilities and history; I love to see creatives approach the genre in increasingly refined and critical ways. But my appreciation of Flyaway is predominantly theoretical; I took a while to warm to the actual text. The inset nature of the short stories and paper cutouts are hit and miss—great subject matter, but respectively samey and unintegrated in execution. But what I really struggled with was the names, with differentiating families and occasionally characters, and placing them in the larger plot. More distinct names could combat this, but it's more likely that I just ... don't care about the social tableau, which kept me at a distance from the magic and atmosphere for too much of the text. So I didn't like this as much as I wanted to, but I don't regret reading it and I want to read more like it—the style and genre, always, but more by Jennings in particular as she matures as an author.


Title: Summer, Fireworks, and My Corpse
Author: Otsuichi
Translator: Nathan Collins
Published: Shueisha English Edition, 2016 (1996)
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 100
Total Page Count: 375,745
Text Number: 1390
Read Because: fan of the author
Review: Two short stories. Early Otsuichi is less refined Otsuichi that nonetheless has a familiar vibe: offbeat mysteries with dry gallows humor. The titular story is narrated posthumously by a recently-murdered young girl as her friends struggle to dispose of her body, and it's a silly but effective premise that perforce makes it impossible to lose sight of the victim even while hovering over the shoulders of the perpetrators; great tension, deceptively funny. The second story is about a servant working for masters who may not be what they seem, and it's shorter and slighter but has a fun, creepy atmosphere. Neither is as emotionally nuanced, dark, or memorable as his later works. This isn't where to start with Otsuichi (try Goth instead)—but as a fan, it's both more of something I like & a chance to see how his work has evolved.

(Also, what a good title on that title story!)


Title: Bad Brains
Author: Kathe Koja
Published: Roadswell Editions, 2015 (1992)
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 370
Total Page Count: 376,155
Text Number: 1392
Read Because: fan of the author, ebook purchased from Rakuten Kobo
Review: After an accident, a lapsed artist finds himself plagued by seizures and increasingly alarming hallucinations. Koja's early work has a distinct vibe, abrupt & fragmented sentences, dirty settings & dirtbag characters. It's an acquired taste but weirdly hypnotic. And a good thing, too, because this has a slow start. It's to some extent necessary, as grappling with a chronic condition is as important, early on, as the burgeoning speculative element; but it's a lot of time spent meandering aimlessly with unlikeable characters. The climax is comparatively hectic, and leans hard into tortured artist tropes—another Koja staple, but better handled elsewhere (namely Skin) where the artists are more motivated & the tropes are therefore more at home. So this is probably my least favorite of this era of Koja, and I'd recommend The Cipher or Skin in its place; but I still liked it fine—mostly by dint of: wanted more Koja, sure did read more Koja.

* It's so weird to purchase ebooks! I'm cool not owning books much these days—I read through the library, I prefer to read on an ereader, physical possessions are gross. But I've been known to buy used paperbacks of texts I can't find in any version from any library; and pandemic = no more bookstores. A perfect opportunity for ebooks! The things I want are obscure and cheap! Digital editions are actually more convenient and, if you back them up, no less impermanent! It was my birthday! But it still feels deeply fake to exchange online dollars for megabyte books, like not just money but also goods & services are all social constructs. This is probably something that I should get over because it could open up my reading—libraries are getting better about indie authors, but there's still a lot they miss.
juushika: Photograph of the torso and legs of a feminine figure with a teddy bear (Bear)
Title: The Ghost of Dibble Hollow
Author: May Nickerson Wallace
Illustrator: Orin Kincade
Published: Scholastic, 1965
Rating: 2.5 of 5
Page Count: 155
Total Page Count: 368,150
Text Number: 1346
Read Because: see note below, from my personal library
Review: A boy's summer vacation at his mother's childhood home is greatly enlivened by the appearance of a young ghost with an mystery to solve. I love the cognitive dissonance and unexpectedly effective nostalgia of a haunted summer, but the actual execution is fairly textbook: the atmosphere is more fun than evocative, the mystery is gently engaging, and the pacing is predictable and effective. What's most striking about this book the ways in the which it feels dated: sometimes quaintly, like the changed idioms and the spelling of "cooky"; sometimes unpleasantly, in the tiresome gender and family dynamics; but particularly in that Bradburian nostalgia for a lost, idealized, all-American, boy's country summer—but without Bradbury's remarkable intensity. It's not a nostalgia I value or share.



I inherited this from my father's bookshelves—not when he died, but ages ago when they were book culling and I picked out anything that caught my eye. I grabbed it off my shelves because I'm doing a cull of my own. So I'm glad to finally've read the thing. I found it interesting rather than belovèd, but now it feels weird to toss a forgotten little book from my dad's childhood—even if I didn't love it, even if I don't know if he did, even though it's hardly a forgotten childhood classic (although most of the reviews are from people who grew up with it and view it fondly); his name is still in the inside cover.

It made me think about nostalgia: about holding on to a book I don't care about; about the particular variety of nostalgia this book leans into.

It reminds me of Ray Bradbury, who I generally love; but I never finished Dandelion Wine,I thought the The Halloween Tree was twee, and otherwise-lovely Something Wicked This Way Comes underwhelmed me because, like Dibble Hollow, Bradbury places idealized boyhood against/within gothic Americana, but: 1) it's not my ideal and therefore 2) the gothic elements don't foil it effectively. That perfect summer which is threated by interruption (and, for the adult author/reader viewing through the lens of nostalgia, which was interrupted by adulthood) isn't my summer; that's not my idyll or my anxiety. I'm sure there are better essays than the one I could ad-hoc about Bradbury and the limitations of idealizing a very local, specific variety of childhood.

But Bradbury at least goes ham. There's so much nostalgia and so much gothic anxiety. This excess is what reads as twee, but it's also an ethos that permeates his work & it does much better when it's more oblique, ex. as the emotional resonance in his science fiction.

But in Dibble Hollow it feels like ... did that ideal childhood ever exist? did it really exist for Bradbury? did it exist at all for May Nickerson Wallace, about whom I can find exactly zero information? The anxiety is so easily resolved in Dibble Hollow—the stakes are low, the atmosphere is weak, but also the economic problems and social turmoil of a small town are all resolved with the mystery plot so that the idyllic boyhood is promised to go on forever: ghost gone, bridges mended, all longing and anxiety whisked away. It feels like the nostalgia for nostalgia, which renders something almost like a pastiche. It feels older than 1965 ... but at the same time very 1965, looking stubbornly back at the hollow fantasy of "the good old days."
juushika: A photo of a human figure in a black cat-eared hoodie with a black cat and a black cat plushie (Cat+Cat+Cat)
Every year, sometimes super duper late, I write this list. Here's the best media I consumed, but which was probably not released (or even new to me!), in 2020. There sure are a lot of books.


Books


I read ~243 books in 2020. That's an intentional step down from last year's 374, but higher than expected; my prior average was ~150 a year. Reading wrap-up musing. )

The Birthday of the World and Other Stories, Ursula K. Le Guin
Crossing the last Hainish book off of my TBR would have been more bittersweet had this not been so good. The series has incredible breadth, but never enough—and this answers that, peering into the cracks in civilizations in a way that insists on increasingly dynamic, diverse worlds. Ratings are meaningless, but this was my my first five-star of the year and one of the only short story collections to ever warrant that rating.

Piranesi, Susanna Clarke
I'm an easy sell on exploring infinite spaces conceptually; what amazed me here is how solid it is in execution without feeling overworked—it's a delicate, balanced, beautiful little book. Again ratings mean nothing, but this is my last 5-star review of the year, and what a high note to end on.

Memoirs of a Spacewoman, Naomi Mitchison
I love when a longtime entry on my TBR is worth the wait. The literal feminist elements have grown dated, but the underlying approach absolutely fulfills this intent: high-concept alien worldbuilding (fun!) with a fundamentally social, interpersonal, communicative, sexual lens (engaging, satisfying!).

Elemental Logic series, Laurie J. Marks
I came to these when I needed to distracted by a totally different world that still interrogated what it means to inhabit, be response for, and change a world. They had a significant positive impact on a shitty year.

Edward Gorey
Bind-ups make Gorey's work so accessible and encourage a deep-dive into his experimentation, running themes, and the conversation between his books. He's like "what if potato chips were also a satisfying, complete meal"—tiny, addictive, even repetitive, but substantial.

The Mysteries of Harris Burdick, Chris Van Allsburg
Some childhood favorites live up to their memory, and this is literally about spinning a single illustration into an entire imagined narrative—which is childhood memory in a nutshell.

Honorable Mentions in Books


The Steerswoman series, Rosemary Kirstein
This was on my list in 2016 (and maybe one day I will actually give it a proper review), but let it be known that it is even better upon reread: the reveals are so well plotted; the beauty of revelation is more keenly felt for anticipating it. I don't know that I've ever had such a successful reread, which is no small achievement.

Goth & Goth (manga), Otsuichi
The novel was on my list in 2015 when I first read it. Rereading both it and the manga together only makes me wish I'd also rewatched the film—this is one of my favorite stories and I love how it alters/reinforces in iteration.

Vita Nostra, Marina and Sergey Dyachenko
Inversions of the magical school trope & I have since hit it off, but this is where I first encountered it and it continues to be my gold standard—not because it's a perfect book, but because what it does with this trope is so thorny that it entangles even the reader in its broken logic and magical transformation.

Blame!, Nihei Tsutomu
The film adaptation was on my list in 2017; the manga is a different beast entire. A nod to the mention of NaissanceE and Control, below, which pushed me to read this. In what turned out to be a year of conceptualizing the inconceivable infinite, this was one of the least plotty but most memorable.

Carmilla, Sheridan Le Fanu
I love the new insights prompted by a reread, but I also love when a reread lives up to every memory—and this is as rich, sensual, unsettling, and gratifying as I remember it to be. What better possible takeaways could there be from this particular book?

A Phantom Lover, Vernon Lee
Queer women writing women in horror makes for exceptional character sketches—unprettied; compelling. I can't wait to read more Lee; I feel like I'm saving her as a future gift for myself.

When I Arrived at the Castle, Emily Carroll
This makes me wish all of Carroll's work were standalone and written first for the page (some of her comics are more successful in their original scrolling digital format) because it's nearly flawless—a visceral, intimate fairytale-horror.

The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories, Angela Carter
This is that perfect storm of repeated failed reviews: what more could I say about this famous thing? and how can I describe such a fierce pleasure? I love this now more than ever—such excesses! such productive thematic contradiction between stories!

Pennterra, Judith Moffett
Like Memoirs of a Spacewoman, this was another longterm TBR resident that met all those years of expectation. My notes read "alien/human sex book" and boy howdy is it that—a complex, uneasy, but fundamentally joyful and compassionate exploration of entirely alien, very thorough sex.

Leopold and Loeb: The Crime of the Century, Hal Higdon
Consider this the thematic cousin to Graham's So Brilliantly Clever, on this list in 2015: this crime also fascinates me; this treatment is thorough, sympathetic, and never exculpatory. It handles the queer elements with particular grace.



Games


NaissanceE
I played this back in February, called it as my game of year then, and I was right. This is my every fear of heights, falling, scale, and insignificance embodied in a breathing human form and a massive inimical space. I've never had such a visceral reaction to a game. I've linked to it before, but I found this through Jacob Geller's video, which is great and speaks to elements that worked for me. The game is free! Play it!

Control
I watched my partner play this, and watching spared me from most of its flaws re: actual gameplay. But what it achieves beyond those flaws is entirely up my alley and contributed to a good year for media about inhospitable architecture and existential dread. I love best Jesse's response to the unknown: that she seeks it doesn't render it any less dangerous, but she still seeks it—the unknown is her home and companion.

Anodyne 2: Return to Dust
Playstation-era graphics are highly underexploited as nostalgia bait; I love the 3D aesthetic. I streamed this for Teja and read all the dialogue aloud, which made me/us linger over the game more than we would have otherwise. I did more grief processing in playing this game than I have in the entire time since my dad died. Dust is sin, dust makes us mortal—and all that means is that dust is life.

Honorable Mentions in Games


Animal Crossing: New Horizons
I don't put this under honorable mentions to discredit it—it came out at just the right time and reshaped my quarantine. But I stopped playing it over summer because I needed to transition away from that coping method and because I don't enjoy the cycle of preemptive investment created by seasonal patches. I hope this will be on my best of list next year, when I can return to the completed game.

Ooblets
I was really anticipating this and played it in early access—indeed it's everything I hoped for: wholesome, excessively quirky, stupidly cute. But I'm not keeping up with patches for the same reason as AC:NH; I'll return when it's finished.

Human Fall Flat
I played a lot of co-op games this year. This was unlike the rest: puzzles instead of gunplay or gamified progression, so we spent less time with it, but also cooperative, creative, with hilariously squishy funsics—it was some of the purest fun I had all year.

Luigi's Mansion series
The joy of playing a Nintendo franchise is watching the gameplay improve and the environments grow ever more lovingly detailed; the joy of this series in specific is unmitigated spoop. The combination is a Halloween delight that immersed me in my favorite season.



Visual Media


Hannibal
This was on my list in 2015 and has secretly been there in every intervening year because I kept rewatching it while building forward in the series and working up the courage to finish season 3—because I love this show so much that more is overwhelming and the idea of it ending is even worse. Ironically s3 was the perfect answer to that anxiety, reflecting obsessively over the series in the same way I do and then ending so, so well.

The Untamed
I was a reluctant sell on this, both for its viral popularity and for its cold open, which works in retrospect is a cheesy, confusing introduction. But it got me so good. The long, slow, tragic, intimate burn of it pays back that initial investment hundredfold, and I'm delighted that their solution to adapting under censorship was to create a plethora of queer subtext even where it doesn't exist in the source material.

Honorable Mentions in Visual Media


Jacob Geller
I sure do love a video essay, but Geller's precise fascination with existential horror and his penchant for "wait, hold on, I promise they're related" interconnections between stories and subjects is so much my style that in a very alternate universe this could be my channel—meanwhile in this universe, I have the videos without the massive effort of making them.

Big-concept SF B-movies
I'm talking Cube's survival game or Coherence's parallel worlds with a twist ending. These were my answer to quarantine: their tension mirrors real life but the engaging-to-ridiculous high concept premises distract from it entirely. The very best of these was Predestination, which is so queer, surprisingly clever, and a strong adaptation of a promising but dated work.

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power
"This is so good," I said with a sense of confused wonder after every episode (after the first handful). My standards were set for Voltron: Legendary Defender: watchable, sometimes good, but a little dumb and/or constrained by format. What I got is something that feels intentional from the onset, with consistent, slow, delicate character growth and a joyful lived diversity.

A Portrait of a Lady on Fire
The female gaze as a reciprocal dynamic, the careful details, the perfect balance of its ending--this left me clarified and sobbing.



Music


Here's my Spotify Wrapup for 2020. In autumn I made a long, messy playlist of the spooky/edgy/Southern Gothic trash I listen to every autumn; in autumn I also made music a big part of my daily activities, so this is the bulk of my top 100.

The other highlight was Cereal Dreamers: Spooky Stories, a collaborative (made to order? royalty free?) collection of spoopy background music that I find incredibly charming.
juushika: A black and white photo of an ink pen (Writing)
These bind-ups still aren't as ideal a reading experience as individually printed books, and I'm sad that some of my favorites—particularly The Nursery Frieze—have never been reprinted as standalone volumes, because I'd love to own them.

But that Gorey self-published these slight little books & thus afforded himself room for creativity and experimentation and his distinctive niche grim humor, and that we nonetheless retain easy access to them despite the rarity/cost of first editions, and that reading his work in collection encourages a deep-dive into his work, his themes, how books interact with one another—all of these things are gifts. I wish that the collections were strictly chronological because it would help build that knowledge of his body of work, but honestly the arrangements are fine.

As usual, my most favorites/the most remarkable are outside the cut.


Title: The Beastly Baby
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Perigree, 1975 (1962)
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 30
Total Page Count: 341,710
Text Number: 1213
Read Because: reading the author, paperback bind-up borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: This opens the Amphigorey Too collection, and it's the best way to dive back into Gorey. Gorey sometimes punches down, and he certainly leans into ableist tropes here; but this is so wholeheartedly off-color that it can't but be delightful. The thwarted baby-imperilments are fantastic, and have a well-rounded, giddy spite.


Title: The Nursery Frieze
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Perigree, 1975 (1964)
Rating: 5 of 5
Page Count: 30
Total Page Count: 341,740
Text Number: 1214
Read Because: reading the author, paperback bind-up borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: almost wish this were in alphabetical order, to better sell the conceit and because it if were it would perfectly mimic the "list unusual or tasty words" game that I play to soothe myself to sleep. But I'm still giving this five stars, as it's one of those Goreys I'd like to own and reread ad infinitum. The words selected are often so peculiar as to feel invented; the vaguely-unsettled beasts blob along in deceptive repetition; it throws a banal premise delightfully off-kilter, and I adore it.

1) This blurb/writeup from Dan Koster is so good, particularly "By putting the words in speech bubbles, Gorey encourages the reader to pronounce the words aloud or silently too themselves, savoring their strange syllables."

2) Comments here suggest the beast are capybara; I enjoy and agree.

3) The words are so good, so—as above—fun to say, and I legit thought half of them were invented. Words preserved below, although it's only half-realized without the illustrations. This post contains definitions.

Archipelago, cardamon, oblouiquy... )

4) Some words are capitalized, for reasons I can't figure (although a few are proper nouns)—probably because they're more pleasing that way.(There's no hidden code in the capitalization and/or letters in the landscape, near as I can find, because I did look.)


The Pious Infant )


Title: The Evil Garden
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Perigree, 1975 (1966)
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 30
Total Page Count: 341,770
Text Number: 1215
Read Because: reading the author, paperback bind-up borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: The art here is sparser than Gorey's usual, with thin illustrations on white progressing to inky black panels. The structure and tone is familiar, a vaguely-period banality meeting the bizarre and morbid. It's not-unpleasantly samey—samey, that is, within in the context of Gorey, who is a reliable delight. And sometimes what makes a particular Gorey work is just that it appeals to one's personal aesthetic, and I sure am a sucker for an overgrown and weirdly malicious garden.


The Inanimate Tragedy )


The Gilded Bat )


Title: The Iron Tonic: Or, A Winter Afternoon in Lonely Valley
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Perigree, 1975 (1969)
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 35
Total Page Count: 341,950
Text Number: 1220
Read Because: reading the author, paperback bind-up borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: The exaggerated horizontal panels lean into the atmosphere of stretching, inexorable loneliness; Gorey's uniquely pointless titles (titles which, in such a short piece, carry a lot of weight) create an appropriate sense of anticlimax. It's an effective, atmospheric little package: lonely, wintery, absurd, quaint—very Gorey, but the particular setting and stylistic experiments, like the inset circular vignettes, make it stand out within his work.


The Chinese Obelisks )


Title: The Deranged Cousins
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Perigree, 1975 (1971)
Rating: 5 of 5
Page Count: 30
Total Page Count: 342,860
Text Number: 1225
Read Because: reading the author, paperback bind-up borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: I'm trash for a The Secret History-esque "insular group of ne'er-do-wells destroyed from within by their own bombastic flaws" premise and Gorey's take on it a delight: the off-kilter, detailed inkwork sells the decrepit atmosphere; the indulgent melancholy is balanced by Gorey's ever-ready wry humor; it's theatric and critical, romantic and tragic, and profoundly silly. Insofar as Gorey's consistent, distinctive style means that specific works stand out just because their gimmicks appeal to the individual reader, this one could have been written just for me & I appreciate the gift.


Title: The Eleventh Episode
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Perigree, 1975 (1971)
Rating: 5 of 5
Page Count: 30
Total Page Count: 342,860
Text Number: 1225
Read Because: reading the author, paperback bind-up borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review:I prefer it when Gorey's series of unfortunate events have a tight focus, as this does—it grounds, or at least contains, the nonsense elements and nails the tragic:comic balance. This has a lovely gothic atmosphere, pleasantly melancholic and sometimes dreamlike, and one of my favorite endings: "'Life is distracting and uncertain,' she said and went to draw the curtain"—pointless and profound.


The Untitled Book )


The Lavender Leotard; or, Going a Lot to the New York City Ballet )


Title: The Disrespectful Summons
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Perigree, 1975 (1971)
Rating: 4.5 of 5
Page Count: 15
Total Page Count: 342,920
Text Number: 1228
Read Because: reading the author, paperback bind-up borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: Gorey does Lolly Willowes: a sudden dance with the devil means a woman has no choice but to curdle milk and read from Ninety-two Entirely Evil Things to Do before she's swept away to hell. The period-appropriate caricature of feminine respectability applied to witch clichés falls squarely within Gorey's stylistic wheelhouse and has an understated feminist vibe—without the autonomy of, again, Lolly Willowes, but Gorey's take on "well, I suppose I have to be evil now" is deceptively bland and enviously fun. Delightful; I want to read Ninety-two Entirely Evil Things to Do; this isn't perfect, but it's one of my favorite Goreys.


The Abandoned Sock )


The Lost Lions )


Title: Story for Sara: What Happened to a Little Girl
Author: Edward Gorey, Alphone Allais
Published: Perigree, 1975 (1971)
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 30 [I'm guessing, can't find details on original publication & have since returned by reprint and can't count panels]
Total Page Count: 343,010
Text Number: 1231
Read Because: reading the author, paperback bind-up borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: Apparently a translation and illustration of a poem by Alphonse Allais, who I've never read. But it's a natural fit for Gorey, who does great work both with apparently-imperiled-but-actually-evil children and with series of unfortunate event narratives, and this combines both to fun effect. Delightfully vicious, with a sweet zinger.


Title: Salt Herring
Author: Edward Gorey, Charles Cros, Alphonse Allais
Published: Perigree, 1975 (1971)
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 50
Total Page Count: 343,060
Text Number: 1232
Read Because: reading the author, paperback bind-up borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: Credited to Charlos Cros and Alphonse Allais, this piece has a storied history. Regardless, it's a natural fit to Gorey. Some of his work is so simple as to feel slight; this takes that and points it, a nonsense work for the sake of nonsense, with appropriately off-kilter panels that rotate orientation halfway through. Delightful!


Title: Leaves from a Mislaid Album
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Perigree, 1975 (1972)
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: ~20, guessing again
Total Page Count: 343,080
Text Number: 1233
Read Because: reading the author, paperback bind-up borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: Like The West Wing, this is a wordless work given context only by the title. The West Wing is better—its mysterious interiors invite investigation, so their haunting atmosphere really lingers. These are portraits, and perforce more explicable; the atmosphere is instead tropey and ominous, with shadow-faced figures and eyelines leading out of frame. But the overall effect is successful, especially in collection with other Gorey—his works are short, so every word matters; and in their absence, every detail of the inkwork is precious. (Also, the Doubtful Guest is there!)


A Limerick )
juushika: Photograph of a row of books on a library shelf (Books Once More)
I read Amphigorey over the course of a month, wondering the whole time if I was planning to write 15 individual book reviews or to treat it like a short story collection and write one. I pace my short story reading, interweaving another work, so that stories stand alone in my mind—but even then, short story collections are—well, collections; they're generally curated to function as a whole. Amphigorey is just a reprint of Gorey's early books (minus two—I wonder why?), which were published as books; while many short stories are also published individually before being collected, this collection doesn't feel curated except for the fact of early career of single author.

...so obviously I had to review this collection as individual books, and RIP my Goodreads followers because it turns out that even 1-3 sentence reviews are a lot when there's 15 of them.

I'll take a break before reading more Gorey in order to avoid burnout, and frankly I don't love the collated Amphigorey experience—the pacing of panels is lost when there's multiple per page, and texts this short need to rely on their intended pacing. Nonetheless it was wildly successful—so consistently enjoyable. Nothing was on par with making The Gashlycrumb Tinies the first Gorey I've read in full, because that piece is fantastic and now his style is more familiar and, as result, less remarkable. But, like reading Maurice Sendak in bulk, there's value in more. Gorey's style has a distinctive aesthetic, but his short works allow for both variation and reinvention—some works are strange experiments, some revisit earlier experiments, and the cumulative effort is fascinating.

As usual, my most favorites/the most remarkable are outside the cut.

Title: The Unstrung Harp, or, Mr. Earbrass Writes a Novel
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Berkley Publishing Group, 1980 (1953)
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 65
Total Page Count: 318,180
Text Number: 1104
Read Because: reading the author, paperback borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library (in Amphigorey: Fifteen Books)
Review: Book about writing are generally indulgent and tedious, but this is charming. And indulgent, of course, but also self-aware, with a satirical ennui and an unexpectedly affecting melancholy. It's more substantial than most Gorey—more text, in particular—despite an abrupt ending, and perhaps this is why it succeeds: angst about every step of the creative process; angst, in a Prufrock sort of way, about life entire.


The Listing Attic )


Title: The Doubtful Guest
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Berkley Publishing Group, 1980 (1957)
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 30
Total Page Count: 318,335
Text Number: 1106
Read Because: reading the author, paperback borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library (in Amphigorey: Fifteen Books)
Review: This succeeds on the strength of things that would make any other work a failure: a near-total lack of progression and a refusal to provide explanation or resolution puts the entire focus on adapting to an inexplicable houseguest, dwelling on every eccentricity and inconvenience. It's up to the reader to interpret metaphor or social critique; the text is more concerned with unconventional rhymes and a droll humor. Absurd! and delightful.


Title: The Object-Lesson
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Berkley Publishing Group, 1980 (1958)
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 30
Total Page Count: 318,365
Text Number: 1107
Read Because: reading the author, paperback borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library (in Amphigorey: Fifteen Books)
Review: If The Mysteries of Harris Burdick were an absurdist class-commentary, it might be this: small scenes within a conspicuously absent larger narrative, distinctly Gorey in sensibility, engaging and foolish and coy. I don't have a lot to say about it, but I like it—untold stories delight me, they're evocative and shimmer with potential.


The Bug Book )


The Fatal Lozenge )


Title: The Hapless Child
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Berkley Publishing Group, 1980 (1961)
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 65
Total Page Count: 318,485
Text Number: 1109
Read Because: reading the author, paperback borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library (in Amphigorey: Fifteen Books)
Review: Most Gorey is very Gorey but this is especially Gorey, with an exaggerated gothic sensibility and a speculative element looming in the background—it's morbid, playful, a distillation of his strengths. I love the cognitive dissonance of a speculative element within such a familiar tragic narrative and the art is particularly strong, with dense, dark crosshatching and clever background details.


Title: The Curious Sofa
Author: Edward Gorey writing as Ogdred Weary
Published: Berkley Publishing Group, 1980 (1961)
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 65
Total Page Count: 318,550
Text Number: 1110
Read Because: reading the author, paperback borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library (in Amphigorey: Fifteen Books)
Review: My review notes read "wtf Gorey (reprise)," as if playful excess and experimentation were at all unusual for him—but the adult content does make this feel different. It's parodical, queer, and coyly offstage, a smorgasbord of innuendo. But the ending! the injection of the macabre is, again, entirely in Gorey's wheelhouse, but it's wildly, flawlessly disorientating in context.


Title: The Willowdale Handcar
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Berkley Publishing Group, 1980 (1962)
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 65
Total Page Count: 318,615
Text Number: 1111
Read Because: reading the author, paperback borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library (in Amphigorey: Fifteen Books)
Review: This is the perfect counterpoint to the unfinished stories of The Object-Lesson: throwaway snippets from within a larger mystery narrative that the PoV characters only tangentially involved in. Where The Object-Lesson is all about the delight of stories in potentia, this is a less satisfying exploration of the story fragmented and denied. And not unsatisfying in a bad way—it's an interesting and arguably more complicated effort which speaks to narrative construction and tropes like the Zeppo.


The Insect God )


Title: The West Wing
Author: Edward Gorey
Published: Berkley Publishing Group, 1980 (1963)
Rating: 4 of 5
Page Count: 30
Total Page Count: 318,675
Text Number: 1113
Read Because: reading the author, paperback borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library (in Amphigorey: Fifteen Books)
Review: The wordless panels allow the art (especially the detailed crosshatching) to speak for itself, and invite the reader to caption each one, to linger, to consider, to search every apparently-innocuous empty room for signs of strangeness—a sense of wonder which the well-placed obvious oddities keep alive. It's perfectly balanced and affects a subdued, haunted atmosphere (still with Gorey's persistent playfulness). I love that Gorey's short books allow the freedom—and are the just the right length—for this sort of experimentation in form.


The Wuggly Ump )


The Sinking Spell )


The Remembered Visit )
juushika: Photograph of a black cat named August, laying down, looking to the side, framed by sunlight (August)
CW food. )



As I've mentioned, I've been borrowing video games from the library. The holds are long and the checkouts are 7-days, so only certain titles work and it creates a unique gameplay experience. It's perforce a title I'm not hugely invested in, something with a limited length, something not worth owning—but then I play the whole ~35 hour game in a week, with more focus and therefore immersion than I might give to a title I purchase and play for longer. I played Let's Go Eevee that way, which tbh is the only way to play the game. Most PKMN games are for me 200+ hours because I'm big into breeding and shiny hunting, but the central gimmick of Let's Go leans heavily towards overpowered single-Pokemon team and the shiny hunting mechanic is cute but the endgame is otherwise shallow; it's very much a 35 hour game.

And I just finished Super Mario Odyssey, which is my first Mario title! and which I only played because it has assist mode! which mitigates health management and largely does away with dying to void-outs. I love Nintendo's gentle/exploratory platforms but hate actual platforming because I can't spacial reasoning or operate under pressure, that's just not fun. So bless assist modes & may this be a thing in all future titles—it's never the wrong time to increase accessibility. 7 days were just enough time to do 500 stars worth of exploring with that satisfied feeling of every curiosity and corner offering a reward, and the due date came when I was hitting hard, unfun content I didn't want to play anyway.

I still contend that core franchise Mario titles are ugly AF with bad world aesthetics and (non-musical) sound design, and that the way gender issues are handled in the endgame cinematic is the worst of Nintendo's too little, too late methodology: something about the high-rez art style makes the forced marriage & objectification of Peach even more glaring, and you can't do that—play it straight, play it at length—for the entire game and then critique it in endgame and expect a cookie for your progressive vision. (The high-rez style also makes the cap-control mechanic feel weird, like ... it's an innately ridiculous game, I shouldn't be considering issues of consent and autonomy, and yet here we are.)

Petition that the next Mario title pulls a Metal Gear Solid 2, opening with Mario in the tutorial levels and then staring Peach for the entire rest of the game with no option to switch characters. Maybe she even rescues him, tbh I don't care. I hope the fanboys will be as mad about it as they were about MGS2.



The pattern of playing a lot of condensed game leads naturally to not playing almost anything afterward, to recover from burnout and rest my wrists. I've been reading a lot! Some very good books! But I'm fatally behind on reviews and honestly should be writing those right now, not this.

It's funny that after reading so much last year, I'm not burned out on books—just on writing about them. My reading distinctly hasn't been a passive thing, lately, in no small part because discovering OpenLibrary/the Internet Archive has made accessible some of those obscure feminist SFNal works which have been on my TBR for years and years. It's active, sometimes even combative reading, but that means I exhaust my reading-energy both in that engagement and at the mere thought of trying to write all of it down. Not writing reviews isn't an option for me, but as well as relearning the art of longer, messier reviews when a condensed one is impossible, I should also embrace the adage that anything worth doing is worth half-assing (rather than not doing at all) and just ... not write book reports, maybe even of things that deserve them.



Incredible and borderline-unmanageable spike in back pain over the last ~2 weeks. This flare is remarkable in part for its duration, which is generally a sign that it's not a flare but a new plateau in my fun experience with a degenerative condition. Also remarkable because it's been interfering with sleep, particularly waking me up after ~4 hours & sometimes making it impossible to go back to sleep. That combo is utterly terrifying. I already do seven million things manage pain for sleep, so there's nothing I can do to improve things; sleep is already hard because of my brainweird; poor sleep is a trigger for ... more pain.

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

These plateaus are always worse when I'm still adjusting to them. In a few months, it'll be background noise, just ... noisier noise than the old noise. But when I frequently don't feel pain, only symptoms of pain—when the bar of "distressing" and "disabling" is constantly shifting upward to hover at whatever level of pain I've grown used to—it makes me wonder: what is a pain scale, objectively (is there such a thing as "objective"); where do I fall on it; when will I tip over to an un-adjustable level. I hope this isn't it.
juushika: Painting of multiple howling canines with bright white teeth (Never trust a stranger-friend)
Title: When I Arrived at the Castle
Author: Emily Carroll
Published: Koyama Press, 2019
Rating: 4.5 of 5
Page Count: 70
Total Page Count: 315,675
Text Number: 1092
Read Because: fan of the author, paperback borrowed from the Wilsonville Public Library
Review: I'm an easy sell for "short graphic novel about violence, identity, magic, and lesbians," but this gave me all I wanted and more. Its brevity allows for experimentation and excess that might be overwhelming at length. The narrative coils and layers on itself in 3+ recontextualizations; I read it twice in succession, and was pleasantly surprised to discover that it's perfectly cogent on reread and richer for that density. Not all elements of the style work for me, but the cumulative effect—of strong black/white/red, of thick and curving female bodies, of panels that contrast fluid structure with sharp negative space, of a stylized and visceral script ("lies slid their way from my stomach to my tongue")—is delightful. It's exactly the sort of indulgence and erotic tension and self-reflection I want from a gothic fairy tale.


Title: Birdwing
Author: Rafe Martin
Published: Arthur A. Levine Books, 2005
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 370
Total Page Count: 316,045
Text Number: 1093
Read Because: mentioned in the Alt+H Discord, borrowed from OpenLibrary
Review: Bearing a swan's wing in place of his left arm, a young prince journeys north to escape political turmoil and discover where he belongs. This begins where the fairy tale "The Six Swans" ends, and the idea of exploring the repercussions of a fairytale is an inspired one. Ardwin has spent more time as a bird than a boy, and he re-enters the human world as a disabled outsider; he struggles to find his place, and is foiled by characters who share liminal or unusual roles. But the writing leaves something to be desired: it has an unstructured, coincidence-heavy plot which could work if it felt more like a fairy tale, but the aggressive humor, more reminiscent of middle grade than young adult, prevents that—while still clashing with the violence and rape threats in the book's second half. It's readable, charming, deceptively light—but under that is an ambiguous and intimate character arc that I wish were stronger.


Title: Red Hail
Author: Jamie Killen
Published: Red Adept Publishing, 2020
Rating: 3 of 5
Page Count: 300
Total Page Count: 316,345
Text Number: 1094
Read Because: review copy provided by the author
Review: While studying the mass hysteria that swept a border town sixty years ago, a young professor is forced to reconsider his hypothesis when his partner starts showing the same bizarre symptoms. This is a solid mystery, alternating between 1960 and 2020 timelines in a way that maintains momentum without feeling forced. The cast in each timeline is human and diverse, and watching each group tackle the mystery with the capabilities and limitations unique to their timeline is satisfying. (I particularly love Dove, a brusque woman from the 1960s timeline who has a bevy of backstory and competency.) But what this lacks is atmosphere—it has a sense of time and place, but is utterly bereft of pathetic fallacy, and using the sweltering desert heat or inhospitable barren landscapes to intensity the anxiety surrounding the disease would have made this more memorable.


The thing that really bugged me about Red Hail wasn't appropriate for my review because it's not a sin unique to this book, this was just my tipping point: Proper nouns. They're so ubiquitous in SF/F that I wouldn't be surprised to find that editors/publishers insist on them, but they're also ... bad.

The "disease" in Red Hail presents as a plagues that happen in sequence, where sufferers enter fugue states and begin naming nearby objects (Naming), holding bizarre static poses (Statuing), etc. These are referred to as the Naming Plague, "he started Naming."

But! 1) It is a truth universally acknowledged that most capitalized made-up terms in fiction aren't grammatically correct proper nouns, which is part of why they're so obtrusive and ridiculous. Moreover, 2) They would be much more effective if they weren't capitalized. Instead of "I could hear in their voice the exaggerated emphasis on 'Naming,' indicating it was Weird and Important," imagine "when they said naming, we all knew what they meant." Imagine that the thing is so memorable and important that it causes a shift in language, giving otherwise innocuous words indelible connotations. Imagine the paradigm shift! Imagine how it would invite the reader to immerse themselves in the speculative elements, internalizing language and therefore worldbuilding.

Capitalization undermines that exact thing, speaking down to the reader rather than inviting them into the language & world of the text. Petition to kill this trend in 2020, and let language be more natural and subtle and effective, and less like the worst bits of YA dystopias.

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