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Hello, book-friends! Yesterday I went to Sculpt and then went out to karaoke with a friend who's in town for the holidays. It's been way too long since I karaoke'd, and last night I was reminded why - run-down bar, crappy sound system, loud drunk crowd. Not having many local karaoke-minded friends, I've just not had the motivation to hunt down a non-awful spot; still, the two of us had fun. And now I'm spending today recuperating...and also making arrangements for my brother-in-law's wedding in February, and coordinating family plans, and looking for coverage for my yoga classes while I'm gone, and responding to a prompt from the NYTimes Interpreter columnists, and hopefully making a playlist for class next week. I feel awfully busy for someone who's barely gotten off the couch!
What I've just finished reading
Bad Astronomy, by Philip Plait. The final section deals with debunking a lot of common conspiracy theories, generally by offering a point-by-point refutation of their arguments. Given that most of these are pretty ludicrous to anyone with basic scientific and astronomical knowledge (Velikovsky's wandering Venus theory was especially jaw-dropping to me), I find myself wondering if Plait isn't perpetuating precisely the problem he's trying to fight. Not that he doesn't do a good job refuting these points, but the issue isn't just that people believe one or the other of these theories, it's the whole mindset of "it's easier to believe what someone persuasive tells you than it is to think critically about it". I wonder if it wouldn't have been more effective if, rather than writing in an adversarial tone that comes off very much as "you should listen to what *I* say, not what *they* say", Plait had used these theories as examples and guided the reader through the various steps of critical consideration.
What I'm currently reading
Ancillary Mercy, by Ann Leckie. This is really turning into one of my favorite kinds of space operas, where there's lots of speculation about new technology and the effects it has on society, but that speculation is placed firmly in the context of immediate, identifiable characters who have to deal with the fallout on a personal level. Specifically, I found Breq's mulling on how they'd (unintentionally) treated the AIs in their life with the same disregard that they so strongly disliked when they were an AI themselves particularly poignant; it's so dang easy to fall into that kind of hypocrisy, especially when you're trying to change a social norm that's so firmly entrenched as to not even be questioned by most poeple. And it's a long and tough bit of processing to acknowledge that behavior, resist the temptation to rationalize and justify, and resolve to do better. The fact that Breq does it while pulling off a particularly 80s-lone-hero bit of long-shot sci-fi action makes it especially entertaining to me. Way to multitask, there, Breq!
Winter Garden, by Kristin Hannah. This is not at all my usual jam (contemporary family drama novel), but it popped up as a sale on Audible and the premise (grown women trying to reconnect with their emotionally-distant mother who grew up in Stalinist Russia through fairy tales that seem to be pretty obvious metaphors for her experinces) sounded moderately interesting; perhaps slightly more so now because I've been haphazardly trying to fill in the gaps of my knowledge of 20th-century Russian history. So far there's been little of that, but I'm still only really in the setup; the author's depictions of a family dealing with the death of their one universally-beloved member have so far been...prosaic. Not ineffective, but nothing that's really hooked my emotions or made me pause the audiobook and go back. We'll see how the next bit goes.
What I plan to read next
Still up in the air, although Goodreads helpfully sent me several emails this week highlighting Kindle deals on books that I've been meaning to read; I now have Ella Enchanted, Hidden Figures, and Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal waiting for me there. Whooo knows which one I'll read first? *waggly mysterious fingers*
What I've just finished reading
Bad Astronomy, by Philip Plait. The final section deals with debunking a lot of common conspiracy theories, generally by offering a point-by-point refutation of their arguments. Given that most of these are pretty ludicrous to anyone with basic scientific and astronomical knowledge (Velikovsky's wandering Venus theory was especially jaw-dropping to me), I find myself wondering if Plait isn't perpetuating precisely the problem he's trying to fight. Not that he doesn't do a good job refuting these points, but the issue isn't just that people believe one or the other of these theories, it's the whole mindset of "it's easier to believe what someone persuasive tells you than it is to think critically about it". I wonder if it wouldn't have been more effective if, rather than writing in an adversarial tone that comes off very much as "you should listen to what *I* say, not what *they* say", Plait had used these theories as examples and guided the reader through the various steps of critical consideration.
What I'm currently reading
Ancillary Mercy, by Ann Leckie. This is really turning into one of my favorite kinds of space operas, where there's lots of speculation about new technology and the effects it has on society, but that speculation is placed firmly in the context of immediate, identifiable characters who have to deal with the fallout on a personal level. Specifically, I found Breq's mulling on how they'd (unintentionally) treated the AIs in their life with the same disregard that they so strongly disliked when they were an AI themselves particularly poignant; it's so dang easy to fall into that kind of hypocrisy, especially when you're trying to change a social norm that's so firmly entrenched as to not even be questioned by most poeple. And it's a long and tough bit of processing to acknowledge that behavior, resist the temptation to rationalize and justify, and resolve to do better. The fact that Breq does it while pulling off a particularly 80s-lone-hero bit of long-shot sci-fi action makes it especially entertaining to me. Way to multitask, there, Breq!
Winter Garden, by Kristin Hannah. This is not at all my usual jam (contemporary family drama novel), but it popped up as a sale on Audible and the premise (grown women trying to reconnect with their emotionally-distant mother who grew up in Stalinist Russia through fairy tales that seem to be pretty obvious metaphors for her experinces) sounded moderately interesting; perhaps slightly more so now because I've been haphazardly trying to fill in the gaps of my knowledge of 20th-century Russian history. So far there's been little of that, but I'm still only really in the setup; the author's depictions of a family dealing with the death of their one universally-beloved member have so far been...prosaic. Not ineffective, but nothing that's really hooked my emotions or made me pause the audiobook and go back. We'll see how the next bit goes.
What I plan to read next
Still up in the air, although Goodreads helpfully sent me several emails this week highlighting Kindle deals on books that I've been meaning to read; I now have Ella Enchanted, Hidden Figures, and Lamb: The Gospel According to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal waiting for me there. Whooo knows which one I'll read first? *waggly mysterious fingers*
