★★½
Hm. This installment seemed lacking.
First, I was taken by surprise by the finality of Evil Elvis's demise in the last book. Given Evil Elvis's true identity, I kept expecting him to re-appear, as Dr. Warsaw did. It seems a bit much to think about the kids' role in that death.
While still trying to stay one step ahead of Mrs. Higgins and the bowler dudes, for much of the book there was no defined antagonist masterminding opposition to the twins. They continued to receive ciphers, so there was the promise of a new adversary - who finally showed up in the last quarter of the book - but most of this book just felt like a lot of waiting for something to happen.
I also am continually tired of the sexism - intentional or not. I haven't been keeping tabs, but it seems like every time the twins get into trouble together, it's Pep who cries in desperation, and Coke who comes up with a clever means of escape.
I'm not sure I like the supernatural twist at the end of this book... That would be going too far, even for this crazy series!
Sunday, December 18, 2016
Saturday, December 10, 2016
You Only Die Twice (The Genius Files #3) by Dan Gutman
★★★
Hmm... Still not crazy about how these books reinforce sexist ideas along the lines of, "girls like bunnies and shopping, boys like water balloons and car crashes."
The first cipher was uncharacteristically easy, and I was annoyed that Pepsi had such trouble figuring out something so simple! CLEARLY, the cipher was meant to read "EVIL LIVES", as a warning that all their troubles were NOT behind them. Well, imagine my surprise when I realized I was wrong! Ha. The actual meaning was certainly more comical, but I still don't see why Pepsi wouldn't have gone down the same path I did.
I continue to not understand why Bones and Mya insist on making their presence known by initially kidnapping Coke and Pepsi and giving them a scare instead of just walking up to them and talking to them!
It also didn't sit well with me that Coke and Pepsi managed to illegally purchase fireworks.
With so many negatives, you'd think my star rating would be lower. But I did manage to find 3 ciphers directed at the reader in this book, and that made me happy. Plus, there was another crazy twist at the end! This series is obviously not meant to be taken seriously, so if you suspend disbelief and just go with the flow, it's an entertaining read.
Hmm... Still not crazy about how these books reinforce sexist ideas along the lines of, "girls like bunnies and shopping, boys like water balloons and car crashes."
The first cipher was uncharacteristically easy, and I was annoyed that Pepsi had such trouble figuring out something so simple! CLEARLY, the cipher was meant to read "EVIL LIVES", as a warning that all their troubles were NOT behind them. Well, imagine my surprise when I realized I was wrong! Ha. The actual meaning was certainly more comical, but I still don't see why Pepsi wouldn't have gone down the same path I did.
I continue to not understand why Bones and Mya insist on making their presence known by initially kidnapping Coke and Pepsi and giving them a scare instead of just walking up to them and talking to them!
It also didn't sit well with me that Coke and Pepsi managed to illegally purchase fireworks.
With so many negatives, you'd think my star rating would be lower. But I did manage to find 3 ciphers directed at the reader in this book, and that made me happy. Plus, there was another crazy twist at the end! This series is obviously not meant to be taken seriously, so if you suspend disbelief and just go with the flow, it's an entertaining read.
Saturday, December 3, 2016
Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates
★★★★
This book is written as a letter to the author's 15-year-old son, though I didn't find it particularly accessible. The subject matter is heavy, the writing itself at times poetic.
My rating is mostly a reflection of my belief that the content should be widely read, especially by people who might not spend a lot of time thinking about race. In this book, we have a first-person account of what it's like to grow up with no choice but to think about race, to think about race in every facet of life, and what that race means not only to your sense of identity, but how it relates to your very survival. As Coates explains, at the most basic level, a black person's greatest concern is his struggle to control what happens to his own body.
Part think piece, part memoir, the author puts on display the raw reality of growing up black in West Baltimore. There's a dichotomy between the streets and school, yet both institutions failed the author as equally unrealistic paths to achieving the American "Dream".
The author writes about "being 'politically conscious' - as much a series of actions as a state of being, a constant questioning, questioning as ritual, questioning as exploration rather than the search for certainty." (p. 34) Coates's lack of religious faith is notable. He faced all the tough questions without being able to fall back on a "greater good" or "God's plan", forcing him to continually grapple with a search for answers and explanations. Though he struggled at first with finding a common narrative, a single truth, he learned at Howard University - his "Mecca" - to embrace the dialogue and debate as being worthwhile in themselves.
Early on, Coates states an important premise: "America believes itself exceptional... I propose to take our countrymen's claims of American exceptionalism seriously, which is to say I propose subjecting our country to an exceptional moral standard." (p. 8) Clearly, an "exceptional moral standard" would preclude pervasive and institutional racism, and at the end of the book, the author poignantly urges his son to "struggle for the memory of your ancestors. Struggle for wisdom. Struggle for the warmth of The Mecca." (p. 151) I get wanting to pass the torch, but I did wonder if maybe it's a heavy burden to place on a 15-year-old.
I found the memoir portions of the book most engaging, for example, the complete revelation he had when he traveled internationally for the first time, and his incredibly profound coming-to-terms in dealing with a friend's death at the hands of the police.
This book is written as a letter to the author's 15-year-old son, though I didn't find it particularly accessible. The subject matter is heavy, the writing itself at times poetic.
My rating is mostly a reflection of my belief that the content should be widely read, especially by people who might not spend a lot of time thinking about race. In this book, we have a first-person account of what it's like to grow up with no choice but to think about race, to think about race in every facet of life, and what that race means not only to your sense of identity, but how it relates to your very survival. As Coates explains, at the most basic level, a black person's greatest concern is his struggle to control what happens to his own body.
Part think piece, part memoir, the author puts on display the raw reality of growing up black in West Baltimore. There's a dichotomy between the streets and school, yet both institutions failed the author as equally unrealistic paths to achieving the American "Dream".
The author writes about "being 'politically conscious' - as much a series of actions as a state of being, a constant questioning, questioning as ritual, questioning as exploration rather than the search for certainty." (p. 34) Coates's lack of religious faith is notable. He faced all the tough questions without being able to fall back on a "greater good" or "God's plan", forcing him to continually grapple with a search for answers and explanations. Though he struggled at first with finding a common narrative, a single truth, he learned at Howard University - his "Mecca" - to embrace the dialogue and debate as being worthwhile in themselves.
Early on, Coates states an important premise: "America believes itself exceptional... I propose to take our countrymen's claims of American exceptionalism seriously, which is to say I propose subjecting our country to an exceptional moral standard." (p. 8) Clearly, an "exceptional moral standard" would preclude pervasive and institutional racism, and at the end of the book, the author poignantly urges his son to "struggle for the memory of your ancestors. Struggle for wisdom. Struggle for the warmth of The Mecca." (p. 151) I get wanting to pass the torch, but I did wonder if maybe it's a heavy burden to place on a 15-year-old.
I found the memoir portions of the book most engaging, for example, the complete revelation he had when he traveled internationally for the first time, and his incredibly profound coming-to-terms in dealing with a friend's death at the hands of the police.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)