Bonobo Sisterhood by Diane L. Rosenfeld – Book Review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

‘Foreword by Ashley Judd “Rosenfeld’s tour-de-force takes the power of female alliances to a higher level, giving us a road map for a new vision of women’s equality through the relationships and bonds we form among one another. The gift of this book is that it gives us hope.”—Valerie Jarrett, New York Times bestselling author of Finding My Voice , and former senior advisor to President Barack Obama The Bonobo Sisterhood is a revolutionary call to action for women and their allies to protect one another from patriarchal violence. Internationally recognized legal expert Diane L. Rosenfeld introduces us to a groundbreaking new model of female solidarity; one that promises to thwart sexual coercion. Urgent, timely, and original, The Bonobo Sisterhood harnesses the power of the #MeToo movement into a road map for sex equality in humans. Our closest evolutionary cousins, the bonobos have a unique social order in which the females protect one another from male aggression. The takeaway? Evolutionarily, bonobos have eliminated sexual coercion and enjoy a more peaceful, cooperative, and playful existence. We have much to learn from them. Rosenfeld explores the implications of the bonobo model for human societies and systems of governance. How did law develop to elude women’s rights so consistently? What difference does it make that we live in a patriarchal democracy? And what do bonobos have to offer as living proof that patriarchy is not inevitable? Most important, how can women break down barriers among themselves to unleash their power as a unified force? Rosenfeld has answers. The Bonobo Sisterhood takes us through real-life stories from the courtroom to the classroom and beyond, charting a new vision of a collective self-defense among women and their allies. It offers an action plan accessible to everyone immediately. This is an open invitation to anyone who wants to challenge the status quo. It starts with the power inherent in each of us knowing that we have selves worth defending, and awakening that power for ourselves and for our sisters. We now have a new model for real change, Rosenfeld reminds us. It’s time to use it. The Bonobo Sisterhood forges a path to create and discover a new meaning of equality, liberty, and justice for all.’

Bonobo Sisterhood is a long essay written by the author Diane Rosenfeld, on building an alliance of women, to protect themselves in the patriarchal set-up that we have today. She takes the example of bonobos, a primate species, very close to human beings found in central African. The author begins with the observation that bonobos are very matriarchal, and are protective of their female species, and often all other female bonobos come in defence of their ‘sister’ if a female bonobo were face an aggression from a male bonobo.

Thus, she makes the argument that the patriarchal setup we have – among humans or chimpanzees that we have is not inevitable among primates and another way is possible. She talks about the need for women to unite and form this ‘bonobo sisterhood’. She talks about real world examples of domestic violence and how these could have been prevented if they had this sisterhood.

This was an easy to read – feel good feminist literature. But to be honest, I felt the book had an interesting premise but is a piece of work with very lazy writing. First, the author assumes that the person the person who is reading the book is a cis-woman. For instance, I am a cis-man, who is sympathetic to the cause, supporting women’s rights and the feminist cause.  

She insists that the movement has to be a ‘woman only movement’. Most social changes – though the movements were led by people who were primarily affected by it – still needs allies from outside the core group, who support the cause because it is the right thing to do. LGBTQ+ rights were not supported just by that community, but even by people from outside, because they felt it was the right thing to do. Same for the ongoing protests for rights of the Palestinians, ethnic minorities in their respective countries, etc.

Moreover, there were aspects that she conveniently ignored several important subjects – such as, what is the position of trans-women in this sisterhood movement of hers? While she certainly spoke against racism, there are still several feminists who are trans-exclusionary (JK Rowling’s name appears very prominently).

And last, humans, though similar, are not bonobos. Even if I assume that the use of bonobos here was a metaphor, I still feel that it would have been far better to have picked up an example of such a society formed by humans, be it by some community in the past, or some community in the present – such as among the peoples who are indigenous to Amazon.

To conclude, I would say that this was an easy read, but again, I do not know whom she was targeting this at exactly, and if it was only to cis-women, in my opinion, that is the wrong approach and that is why, I award this book only a three on ten.

Rating – 3/10

Have a nice day
Andy

The Meursault Investigation by Kamel Daoud – Book Review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

‘He was the brother of “the Arab” killed by the infamous Meursault, the antihero of Camus’s classic novel. Seventy years after that event, Harun, who has lived since childhood in the shadow of his sibling’s memory, refuses to let him remain anonymous: he gives his brother a story and a name—Musa—and describes the events that led to Musa’s casual murder on a dazzlingly sunny beach.

In a bar in Oran, night after night, he ruminates on his solitude, on his broken heart, on his anger with men desperate for a god, and on his disarray when faced with a country that has so disappointed him. A stranger among his own people, he wants to be granted, finally, the right to die.

The Stranger is of course central to Daoud’s story, in which he both endorses and criticizes one of the most famous novels in the world. A worthy complement to its great predecessor, The Meursault Investigation is not only a profound meditation on Arab identity and the disastrous effects of colonialism in Algeria, but also a stunning work of literature in its own right, told in a unique and affecting voice.’

Note: This book is originally written in French and I read the French version. Cliquez ici afin de lire mon avis en français

Albert Camus’ ‘The Stranger’ is a well known novel. The Meursault Investigation is a novel from the Algerian writer and journalist Kamel Daoud, written as a response to Camus’ novel and starts with the phrase ‘Mother is still alive’, the exact opposite of ‘The Stranger’.

Raymond Meursault, the main character of ‘The Stranger’, killed an ‘Arab’ near Algiers, which was a relatively ‘minor detail’ in that novel and this Arab never had a name. Even though Meursault was sentenced to death, it was for a bizarre reason and not for having killed ‘an Arab’. Here, the author has given the dead man a name – Moussa, and his mother is still alive, and the story is narrated by his brother Haroun.

The plot explores the impact this incident has had on the family, especially Haroun where his mother is not ready to accept that her favourite child is dead, and he tries to cope with this trauma by binge drinking in bars around Oran.

I found the idea very interesting. I have often read novels that allude to other famous works but never a case where it is written as a response to an existing novel and give the other side of the story. There is also the fact that in our world where the Western culture is dominant, very often, even the names of the people from other cultures get submerged and I found that it was very powerful from the author to have given the ‘Arab’ a name. Behind every person killed by atrocities of a colonial regime, there was a bereaving family that was profoundly impacted, and the author showed this aspect of the novel very well. I read a bit of the author’s biography and I understand that he wants the stories of Africa and its people to be told by Africans and not by others – which I think is a good initiative.

When I was reading the book, I could find some sympathy for the character of Haroun, where he was desperate for the validation from the society at large or his mother and unfortunately, he had neither. However, the change he adopted in the final third of the novel made me quickly lose that empathy as well. Moreover, I felt the book was dominated by just one person. While I understand that he was the narrator, the conversations between him and his mother could have been more in detail by which I could have understood her as well, better.

To conclude, I enjoyed this read, it was a book in my shelf for a long time and I regret that I did not read it much earlier. I award the book a rating of eight on ten.

Rating – 8/10

Have a nice day,
Andy

The Power of the Powerless by Václav Havel – book review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

‘The Power of the Powerless (Czech: Moc bezmocných) is an expansive political essay written in October 1978 by the Czech dramatist, political dissident and later politician, Václav Havel. The essay dissects the nature of the communist regime of the time, life within such a regime and how by their very nature such regimes can create dissidents of ordinary citizens. The essay goes on to discuss ideas and possible actions by loose communities of individuals linked by a common cause, such as Charter 77. Officially suppressed, the essay was circulated in samizdat form and translated into multiple languages. It became a manifesto for dissent in Czechoslovakia, Poland and other communist regimes.’

Note: This book is originally written in Czech and I read its French translation. Cliquez ici afin de lire mon avis en français

The Power of the Powerless is an essay written by the former president of the Czech Republic Václav Havel, who was also an activist or civil liberties when Czechoslovakia was under the influence of the Soviet Union.

He starts by describing the present situation in the Eastern bloc, given the essay was written in 1985, before the fall of the Berlin Wall. He starts by explaining how a totalitarian regime operates, and also challenges the common Western perception that these were countries under a classical dictatorship where a person at the top of the system micro manages and takes all the decisions. However, he explains how the system has moved to a ‘post-totalitarian’ regime, where public obedience is automated through the institutions created by the regime. He takes an example that is easy to understand, where his local greengrocer has a signboard that said he supported the regime and shows how deep the tentacles of the system had reached, which forced the greengrocer to explicitly express support to function.

He also spoke of a solution, as to how, little by little, the system could be shaken, for instance, if the greengrocer removes this signs and other people start disobeying some of the automations created by the system – so that they can realise the importance of living with freedom, respect and dignity. He also spoke of the importance of finding a ‘second culture’ for such resistance movements, taking the example of jazz musicians in Poland, who had radical lyrics and had created their own cult of followers, which held create a disobedience movement there. He goes on to say how these small actions of the ‘powerless’ en masse, can bring about tremors in the system.

I felt the author gave a good context before starting the essay, and even though I am no expert of Czech / Slovak politics, I found the book easy to understand. For that, I also have the translator of my edition to thank, who had added notes wherever there were references to Czechoslovak personalities or movements during the 70s and the 80s. Many of the issues he raised are relevant even today, given how populism is making a comeback in Europe and other parts of the world and we need to keep in mind that the freedoms that we have today is not permanent, it would not be long before we fall into another ‘post-totalitarian’ system if we are not careful.

The postface written by Adrian Pabst, a professor of politics in the UK, evoked the same point, even though there were some points of his that I disagreed, wherein he equated the measures taken by various governments to curtail the spread of covid-19 as an example of totalitarian tendencies in present regimes, which is ironically an argument used by actual politicians with totalitarian views such as Donald Trump, Marine Le Pen or Nigel Farage.

I enjoyed my read and I felt his ideas were expressed very well, which does not surprise me given he was a playwright and poet by profession and thus, very good at communication. I also learnt a lot about the political history of the countries I love visiting as a tourist (Czech Republic and Slovakia). The book would be an easy read for anyone who likes following current news related to politics and to conclude, I would say this is a book highly recommended by me. I award the book a rating of eight on ten.

Rating – 8/10

Have a nice day,
Andy

Open Water by Caleb Azumah Nelson – Book Review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

‘Two young people meet at a pub in South East London. Both are Black British, both won scholarships to private schools where they struggled to belong, both are now artists -- he a photographer, she a dancer -- trying to make their mark in a city that by turns celebrates and rejects them. Tentatively, tenderly, they fall in love. But two people who seem destined to be together can still be torn apart by fear and violence.

At once an achingly beautiful love story and a potent insight into race and masculinity, Open Water asks what it means to be a person in a world that sees you only as a Black body, to be vulnerable when you are only respected for strength, to find safety in love, only to lose it. With gorgeous, soulful intensity, Caleb Azumah Nelson has written the most essential British debut of recent years.’

Open Water is the first novel written by Caleb Azumah Nelson, featuring a love story between two young black man and woman in the UK, the former being a photographer and the latter being a dancer. While the man is based in London, the woman is studying in Dublin and only gets to meet the ‘narrator’ occasionally.

The narration is done in an interesting manner – wherein, it is from the second person perspective and every time the narrator (the man) is referred to as ‘you’, it helps the reader to better put oneself in their shoes and imagine their perspectives. While we could read about inherent prejudices against a dark-skinned person in the UK, it was a different experience of oneself being that person, while reading this book.

That said, I also understood that the book is a tad autobiographical, given the author’s own British-Ghanian ancestry, with the narrator being a British man of Ghanian heritage as well. Moreover, the main character lives in Bellingham in South East London, similar to the author himself. Hence, reading the ‘about the author’ before starting the book can be a good idea.

There were also certain themes that were analysed – the intimacy between the two main characters and the doubts they had over the state of their relationship. Also, while there have been several books written about ethnic minorities facing discrimination, here, both the main characters were leading normal lives, while the author touched upon the subtle aspects of struggles of a black person in the UK, including the narrator having a traumatic episode which he does not wish to talk about.

The author adopted a poetic approach and between the two main characters, several of the conversations were interesting. Despite the small size of the novel, I would say this was still a slow read given you had to take your time to absorb all the contents of the book.

That said, this being a novella was an issue as well, given the author superficially touched upon many aspects but could never go deep. We know deeply about ‘you’, the narrator, but again, I would have liked to explore more on what event led to his trauma. The other character who had some level of mention was his partner, but we got to know very little about her as well. Maybe this could have been a longer novel but surely, this was a good start which encourages me to try other works of the author.

On that note, I award the book a rating of seven on ten.

Rating – 7/10

Have a nice day,
Andy

Talking to my Daughter by Yanis Varoufakis – Book Review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

'Why is there so much inequality?' asked Xenia to her father. Answering her questions in a series of accessible and tender letters, Varoufakis educates her to what economics and capitalism is and why it is so dangerous.

Taking from memories of her childhood and a variety of well-known tales - from Oedipus and Faust to Frankenstein and The Matrix - Varoufakis turns Talking To My Daughter into an enjoyable and engaging read, without ever shying from the harder truths. Greece's former finance minister explains everything you need to know to understand why economics is the most important drama of our times.

In answering his daughter's deceptively simple questions, Varoufakis disentangles our troubling world with remarkable clarity and child-like honesty, as well as inspiring us to make it a better one.’

Talking to my Daughter is a brief history of capitalism written by the former finance minister of Greece, Yanis Varoufakis. This is presented as him answering question of his teenage daughter currently living in Australia, as to why there is so much inequality in the world, and explains capitalism and economics in a way in which she, and a lot of others without a background in economics could understand.

The author begins this like any other standard economics book talking about how the early societies used barter, and the eventual invention of agriculture which created a need for a medium of exchange and also laws related to land ownership. The author tries to address several problems including social, historical and economic problems, where he starts by answering why the Australian aborigines did not go about colonising Europe. I would not evaluate the anthropological merits of his argument, but he brings it down to the economy, how Europe’s creation of surplus demanded a constant need for more markets and more people to sell. He then goes on to explain several present-day situations – such as debt, and also the question of unemployment.

I must give the disclaimer that how one is going to receive the book is largely going to depend on the political convictions of an individual and I would disclose that Yanis Varoufakis is someone whom I agree with more than I disagree.

To me, I felt the book was structured well, which is something that most could agree on regardless of one’s political alignment – given how it talked about how society was initially structured, some of the most basic problems we face, how the markets are formed, and also other crises like unemployment (and challenging the very idea that some consider this to be a ‘myth’). There were also several very well-known references to Greek mythology and also famous films such as The Matrix. That said, given that this is an English translation, and though the examples would be very evident to a Western audience, I think the translator should have added footnotes to some of the references given works in English are also read even outside the anglosphere.

Moreover, I find personally as an economics graduate and finance professional, that some of what he explains are the same problems that populists fall under – especially his explanation of the central bank – that one tries to oversimplify an actually complex concept (such as monetary easing for instance or banks creating ‘value out of thin air’) and discredit the whole system altogether. One could have a reasonable debate on the validity of such a system or whether it needs a total overhaul as is suggested by the author but oversimplification might not convey the message that is intended.

To conclude, this book is a decent start to those who wish to learn more about the economy and the evolution and criticism of capitalism. However, certain concepts that are complex, need not have been touched upon rather than giving a misleading and oversimplified version. On that note, I award the book a rating of six on ten.

Rating – 6/10

Have a nice day,
Andy

All is Silence by Manuel Rivas – Book Review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

‘Fins and Brinco are best friends, and they both adore the wild and beautiful Leda. The three young friends spend their days exploring the dunes and picking through the treasures that the sea washes on to the shores of Galicia. One day, as they are playing in the abandoned school on the edge of the village, they come across treasure of another kind: a huge cache of whisky hidden under a sheet. But before they can exploit their discovery a shot rings out, and a man wearing an impeccable white suit and panama hat enters the room. That day they learn the most important lesson of all, that the mouth is for keeping quiet.’

Note: The book is originally in Galician, I read its French translation. Cliquez ici pour lire mon avis en français

All is Silence is a Galician novel from the Spanish author Manuel Rivas, who is known for promoting works of literature in Galician. In this book, he tells the story of a small village in Galicia called Noitia, which is under the control of the patriarch of the village – Mariscal; who controls the village’s contraband economy.

The story starts by recalling the friendship between three youngsters – Fins, Leda and Brinco and follows their path of growing up. Leda and Brinco follow the patron of the village Mariscal by entering the drug trade whereas Fins becomes a police officer. The story focuses on the change in their life and the change in the village and Galicia at large given the impact of globalisation, including in the drug trade.

The description of the Galician landscape by the author was beautiful, and also thanks to the cover of the French edition that I had (attached in this review), I could visualise the village of Noitia, the city of La Coruña, the mountains and the sea. The author also used several allusions, from Latin, French, Greek and also some Galician folktales adding a poetic aspect to the writing.

Despite the good writing and my journey through Galicia through his words, a novel needs a plot to save itself. It is not often that I read 295 pages and at the end of it, I did not quite understand the story that the author wanted to tell through this book. Manuel Rivas started by describing the village and the three teenagers, introduced several characters immediately without giving me time to absorb or understand any of them. I must say that the write-up by my French publisher was excellent which immediately made me curious to read the book, given it was an interesting premise with three close friends from childhood, choosing a radically different path in a changing world.

We are given to know that Fins is a police officer but throughout the plot, we never saw him carry out any investigation or even ask questions; just took a few photos which had no impact on the plot. I got the impression that Fins, Leda and Brinco were the main characters but the book had the overwhelming presence of Mariscal all over.

In any novel, the author tries to create a world and bring the reader into this world. However, I found that Manuel Rivas kept the door locked and kept the keys to himself that I could never enter this world. I would have liked to extend a benefit of doubt, as to how much was lost in translation, however, it is difficult for me to justify such a benefit of doubt given I can understand losing certain nuances but not the whole plot altogether.

To conclude, it was a cumbersome read, which was still a well written novel, just without any story to tell. I award the book a rating of four on ten.

Rating – 4/10

Have a nice day,
Andy

Millennial Vegan by Casey T Taft – Book Review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

‘Millennials, people between the ages of 15 and 34, make up nearly half of the current vegan population. Despite being dealt a bad deal by prior generations, this generation is increasingly able to see past all the ways our society indoctrinates us to use nonhuman animals.

Millennial Vegan offers support to this important group by providing tips for advocacy, strategies for communicating with unsupportive peers, advice on issues related to dating, and information on maintaining personal wellbeing. The movement for nonhuman animals depends on the support of millennials, and this guide will help this already aware group maximize their ability to be the best vegan advocates they can be.’

Millennial Vegan is a book on navigating everyday life as a young vegan written by the clinical psychologist Casey T Taft. This book deals with various aspects of life that a young person would go through while being a vegan – be it with parents, at school, facing bullying, or choosing relationships.

This book is split into chapters that are easy to navigate and also deals with some of the most common questions that vegans face – such as ‘how people get their proteins’ (a myth that has been debunked several times), and also the bullying one might face in school as a result of that. He also talks about the anger that one could have, given that being a vegan, one has already seen several atrocities on non-human animals, and also how the system is quite rigged against millennials, when it comes to the cost of living or the price of property.

Despite the book being well presented, I wonder whom the author was targeting and if he was merely preaching to the choir, if this book was meant to be read only by people who are already vegan. Moreover, I felt that the author used millennial interchangeably with ‘teenager’ and I feel the latter and their parents would have been the most appropriate target audience for this book. This is considering how the author did not talk about dynamics at the workplace, social events as to how to politely decline a non-vegan snack offered, or even bullying faced from adults.

As a vegan myself, to me it was an easy read but again, I was uncomfortable with the author’s assumption that the only reason why any person becomes vegan is over compassion for animals – while that is true of many; to me the clinching argument was the environment and for many others, there could be several other reasons – or a combination of many as not all of them are mutually exclusive either.

To conclude, I had an enjoyable, quick read, mostly content that I already agreed with and could relate to many of the situations that the author spoke about, but it could have tried to reach a wider audience. On that note, I award the book a rating of six on ten.

Rating – 6/10

Have a nice day,
Andy

This is Vegan Propaganda by Ed Winters – Book Review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

‘Our choices can help alleviate the most pressing issues we face today: the climate crisis, infectious and chronic diseases, human exploitation and, of course, non-human exploitation. Undeniably, these issues can be uncomfortable to learn about but the benefits of doing so cannot be overstated. It is quite literally a matter of life and death.

Through exploring the major ways that our current system of animal farming affects the world around us, as well as the cultural and psychological factors that drive our behaviours, This Is Vegan Propaganda answers the pressing question, is there a better way?

Whether you are a vegan already or curious to learn more, this book will show you the other side of the story that has been hidden for far too long. Based on years of research and conversations with slaughterhouse workers and farmers, to animal rights philosophers, environmentalists and everyday consumers, vegan educator and public speaker Ed Winters will give you the knowledge to understand the true scale and enormity of the issues at stake.’

This is Vegan Propaganda is a book on the propaganda done by meat industry and the dairy industry over the years, and other common arguments against vegan lifestyle, argued and compiled by the vegan activist Ed Winters.

He starts explaining the environment he grew up in and his transition to veganism. He then goes on to talk about the practices of the meat and dairy industry and why for both moral and scientific reasons, one needs to embrace veganism. He goes on to mention more in graphic detail as to what goes on when it comes to treatment of animals, be it in slaughterhouses or dairy farms. There is also a segment of the book, where he debunks the frequent arguments used by the meat industry and the society at large, including the famous question of ‘how do you get your protein?’, and much as he touches upon the arguments in this book, I understand that he has written a whole book titled How to argue with a meat eater.

The book is very well researched and provides ample statistics (properly referenced to back his claims). One might feel that his statistics are highly UK-centric, but that is natural given that the writer is from there. Moreover, the tendency in our globalised world is similar across, barring a few minor gaps. So, this book tries to please various sides, those who are convinced by statistics or those who are convinced by morals. I found some of the information quite interesting, for instance, on the amount of land occupied by farms of soybeans (a common argument against vegans) and it would only increase if we were to all go vegan; even though, as of today, 80% of the soybeans are for consumption by farm animals who are slaughtered later for their meat.

The aspect I was not sure was whom the author was addressing. Given that I am a vegan, I am not shocked by what the author has written nor are my personal choices put on trial over here. But if the intention is to reach beyond the base, I felt the language used by the author was too strong, at times – there are different schools of thought as to whether that is necessary but, in my opinion, making people guilty of their present-day choices is not going to work. It was particularly hard to read the chapters of the book where he described in detail how different animals are tortured by the meat and dairy industry.

However, this book could certainly help those in transition and as I mentioned earlier, that I am vegan, I am also organiser of a vegan group where I am based, and we read this book for a ‘book club event’. One of the participants remarked that they were already a vegetarian but having read this book, decided to turn fully vegan, giving up on dairy and eggs. However, more testimonies, especially from those who are consuming a meat-based diet as of today, could help me judge this aspect better.

To conclude, I found this book informative and as aforementioned, could help those in transition. However, for those who cannot read detailed write-ups on torture of animals in the ‘factory farms’, those sections could be avoided. Considering that, I would award the book a rating of seven on ten.

Rating – 7/10

Have a nice day,
Andy

Entangled Life by Merlin Sheldrake – Book Review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

‘The more we learn about fungi, the less makes sense without them. They can change our minds, heal our bodies and even help us avoid environmental disaster; they are metabolic masters, earth-makers and key players in most of nature's processes. In Entangled Life, Merlin Sheldrake takes us on a mind-altering journey into their spectacular world, and reveals how these extraordinary organisms transform our understanding of our planet and life itself.’

Fungi are ever present – be it in the mushrooms we eat or the moulds that we find in bread or furniture. However, the argument made by the biologist Merlin Sheldrake in his book Entangled Life as to how fungi make our worlds and could even shape the future.

Fungi are in a unique position between the plant and animal kingdoms, and towards the end of the book, the author even evokes the question as to whether it is reasonable to categorise all fungi under one category, which could be inappropriate (akin to how not all animals in the water are ‘fish’). The author starts with the phenomenon of lichens, the symbiosis between an algae and a fungi and how they have eventually helped in taking organisms from sea to the land. Equally, he also talks about intelligence of certain fungi and the networks that they create, which could be as complex as that of the map of the Tokyo underground metro. He also talks about humans’ relationship with fungi, be it consuming mushrooms, using yeast for fermentation or enjoying truffles. The book

The first four chapters were insightful as well as interesting – I learnt a lot of new things about fungi, given there are several words that I saw in this book that I had never used after middle school biology. The book was also well researched, given how the citations and notes were almost as long as the content in itself.

Having said that, I felt that was also a problem of this book, given how I felt that till the fourth chapter, it targeted at a general audience but after that, the level of technical language in this book was significantly elevated that I was no longer able to connect. I was still able to get a broad idea of what the author was trying to express, but could not go into details. Moreover, given that I presume the author wrote it for a general audience than members of his own community of biologists, I would have preferred some amount of writing on the regular mushrooms that we consume en masse over and above the detailed discussions on several fancy fungi that the author had discussed.

To conclude, I would say that this is a book that could be enjoyed a lot by people who have a background in the subject, to the rest, you can get a broad idea of what the author is talking about, but name-dropping several technical terms without much explanation or citing names of scientists without much explanation on what those scientists had done – was difficult to follow (often redirected to research papers in the notes). I came out knowing more about our world having read this book and that could make a case to say that this book was interesting, but at the same time, owing to the writer’s presentation, it also made it boring and a difficult read. On that note, I would award the book a rating of five on ten.

Rating – 5/10

Have a nice day,
Andy

Paris isn’t dead yet by Cole Stangler – Book Review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

‘The Paris of popular imagination is lined with cobblestone streets and stylish cafés, a beacon for fashionistas and well-heeled tourists. But French American journalist Cole Stangler, celebrated for his reporting on Paris and French politics, argues that the beating heart of the City of Light lies elsewhere – in the striving, working-class districts, where residents are now being priced out.

Paris Isn't Dead Yet explores the past, present and future of the city through the lens of class conflict, highlighting the outsized role of immigrants in shaping the city's progressive, cosmopolitan and open-minded character – at a time when politics nationwide can feel like they're shifting in the opposite direction. This is the Paris many tourists too often miss: immigrant-heavy districts such as the 18th arrondissement, where crowded street markets still define everyday life. Stangler brings this view of the city to life, combining gripping, street-level reportage, stories of today's working-class Parisians, recent history and a sweeping analysis of the larger forces shaping the city.’

Paris is often romanticised in the media as this beautiful city, with the picturesque cafés on its streets, the monuments, the museums, ad a city with a rich history of supporting writers and artists from all over the world, be it Picasso or Hemingway. However, the author of this book – Paris isn’t Dead Yet, the journalist Cole Stangler – talks about the rapid gentrification of the city, while there were always elitist arrondissements of Paris like the 16^th, the city is slowly losing its working-class population and is being increasingly dominated by white-collared elites all across.

The author starts with the present day, explaining the most diverse Parisian arrondissement – the 18^th which has Montmartre, atop which you have the iconic Basilica Sacré Coeur, along with some of the cafés most frequented by the tourists; but at the same time, a ten minute walk down the hill to Boulevard Ornano completely changes this picture – taking us towards Goutte d’Or in the 18^th, a neighbourhood predominantly inhabited by working class consisting mostly of immigrants from West African nations in the Sahel. However, the author goes on to describe the changing situation here, wherein, they are being outpriced by the significant increases of rent in Paris, and also other costs, being pushed to suburban towns like Saint-Denis and Aubervilliers. A phrase that is often thrown around casually, is that ‘this neighbourhood is not like in the past, it is good now’, by which, what is often meant is that it has been gentrified – something often said about places like Belleville in Paris.

The author also talks about the history of the city, wherein, it was not uncommon for the rich and the working-class to share the same building, just that the size of their houses would be significantly different within the same building but that is hardly the case anymore. The author also explains how this is making the city lose its essential character of being a melting pot attracting people from all walks of life, and especially how freelance and independent artists can no longer afford the city unlike the era Picasso, James Joyce or Hemingway.

There are also detailed interviews with individuals whom the author has interviewed, people who had been living in a neighbourhood for decades eventually being priced out, and social housing being unavailable: The author also has conducted interviews with politicians within the city administration, and I found his conversations with the city councillor for Communist Party of France (PCF) – Ian Brossat, to be very interesting and insightful, especially on social housing.

That said, I enjoyed the level of detail in this book. But it needs to be highlighted I enjoyed it, and I could relate to it since I have been living in Paris for long enough, and fully understand what he is talking about – including specific street names that he brought up in the 18^th. To be very precise, I myself am one of the people who are causes of this gentrification, given I live in the 18^th arrondissement, the typical ‘white collar elite’ who is outpricing the original residents of the neighbourhood. However, what I am unsure is to what extent would people who are not familiar with the city would relate to it, given many of the places the author talks about are ones that would never be visited by tourists, be it Aubervilliers or Goutte d’Or.

If it is to highlight the situation in Paris and saving it from hypergentrification, I am not sure who the target audience of this book is, given that this is a book in English (I am not sure if a French translation is being planned), and for any work of non-fiction, it is reasonable to ask who is the target audience and I was unclear on that with this book.

On the whole, I had a great reading experience reading this book, sometimes was interesting to see references to cafés I have visited myself being referenced in the book. This was also insightful for me given I am living here and would like to have a say on making sure that the city is still accessible to people from all walks of life. On that note, I award the book a rating of seven on ten.

Rating – 7/10

Have a nice day,
Andy

On Photography by Susan Sontag – Book Review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

‘Susan Sontag's groundbreaking critique of photography asks forceful questions about the moral and aesthetic issues surrounding this art form. Photographs are everywhere, and the 'insatiability of the photographing eye' has profoundly altered our relationship with the world. Photographs have the power to shock, idealize or seduce, they create a sense of nostalgia and act as a memorial, and they can be used as evidence against us or to identify us. In these six incisive essays, Sontag examines the ways in which we use these omnipresent images to manufacture a sense of reality and authority in our lives.’

On Photography is a collection of essays by Susan Sontag. Most of these essays were published in the New York Times between 1973 and 1977 – back when photography was still a specialised field and not like in the 21^st century, where everyone virtually has a camera on their smartphone.

The author discussed the evolution of photography over the years in detail, and discussed works of famous photographers such as Brassaï, Diane Arbus, etc. But the issue I felt that was in these essays was the author’s assumption that the reader is fully aware of the works of these photographers, which the average reader is not. I know of these photographers mainly because I live in Paris, and those who have worked on taking photos of Paris, such as Brassaï or Diane Arbus, I could relate to their works and understand what the author was discussing. But others, I was completely in the dark, and the publisher of the book could have added the photos for us to relate to, than letting things to our imagination.

Moreover, the author idealised photography as a unique art form where it is the only form of art where anything done ‘today’ would be considered as ‘art’ in the future but this is not exclusive to photography, but most forms of art – those which were considered ordinary or the norm, becoming antiques and a form of art in the future. In fact, several artists, such as Van Gogh, did not have the recognition when they were alive.

To conclude on these essays, I did not enjoy this, as an average reader, and if I had been an enthusiast on photography, and its history and I knew about the works of all the famous photographers that she talked about, I might have had a different opinion. Add to that, a lot of what she discussed in this book is outdated, given photos could be taken by anyone almost instantly. On that note, I award this book a rating of four on ten.

Rating – 4/10

Have a nice day,
Andy

You Don’t Belong Here by Elizabeth Becker – Book Review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

‘The long-buried story of three extraordinary female journalists who permanently shattered the barriers to women covering war.   Kate Webb, an Australian iconoclast, Catherine Leroy, a French daredevil photographer, and Frances FitzGerald, a blue-blood American intellectual, arrived in Vietnam with starkly different life experiences but one shared purpose: to report on the most consequential story of the decade. At a time when women were considered unfit to be foreign reporters, Frankie, Catherine, and Kate challenged the rules imposed on them by the military, ignored the belittlement of their male peers, and ultimately altered the craft of war reportage for generations.

In You Don’t Belong Here, Elizabeth Becker uses these women’s work and lives to illuminate the Vietnam War from the 1965 American buildup, the expansion into Cambodia, and the American defeat and its aftermath. Arriving herself in the last years of the war, Becker writes as a historian and a witness of the times.

What emerges is an unforgettable story of three journalists forging their place in a land of men, often at great personal sacrifice. Deeply reported and filled with personal letters, interviews, and profound insight, You Don’t Belong Here fills a void in the history of women and of war.’

You Don’t Belong Here is a book written recalling the stories of three women – who were photo journalists during the Vietnam war – the first to break the glass ceiling of women being involved in wartime photography. The book is written by a woman war photographer herself, Elizabeth Becker.

It starts with the story of Catherine Leroy, a young woman from France who is not happy with her circumstances in a Parisian suburb and is looking to move abroad – to London, but later takes a one way ticket to Saigon (present day Ho Chi Minh city), to be a wartime photographer and goes through her experiences – when it comes to how she was seen as a woman and the constraints she had (such as, the fact that male journalists having Vietnamese partners were not seen as an issue but the other way round was). The next is on Frances Fitzgerald, daughter of US ambassador to Laos and is from the elite circles of US political sphere – whose trip to Laos decided to make her take this career. The last is on the Australian woman, Kate Webb, who also comes to Vietnam as a photographer and ends up in captivity of the Viet Cong.

This book details the story very well and we learn a lot – on the background of these women, their motivations and also the political situation around the Vietnam war. The author takes a lot of effort to inform the reader about the war, and the situation that was surrounding it, including touching upon less known aspects such as the bombardment of Cambodia and its impact. The struggles of Catherine was also well documented – but at the same time, the author also pointed out the few allies they had in this journey who helped them face these odds. Equally interesting was Kate Webb recalling her experiences, where there was a point where she was declared ‘dead’ by the Australian media and we are unaware to what extent hers was a case of Stockholm syndrome or a case of gaining understanding the other perspective that changed her views.

It was also interesting to know the steps that these women had to take to break these adverse circumstances – such as Catherine had to show herself as pro-war, pro-military action, more so than the average American conservative to be accepted in the area.

Having said that, much as I would not want to comment on the life choices of individuals and indeed, took a great step in opening up career avenues for women in the west, I also could not help but see how here were western women, who were bored of lives in their own countries and decided to make a career out of the misery and suffering of people far away from where they were. I might have viewed it differently had they been well informed of Vietnam, its politics, and its history and hence were passionate about it; which made them make this journey, but instead – they learnt all on the go.

Moreover, I understand that the book is about ‘women not belonging’ in photo journalism during a war and these women defying the odds; however, the author went a lot deeper than that, in explaining the war and the politics surrounding it (very well, if I may say so). In that case, to negate the earlier criticism, I would have like it if there was also the story of a Vietnamese or a Cambodian journalist who was trying to bring to light images from this war.

The last, I understood during the epilogue that the author herself is a famous photo journalist and if one of the few to have interviewed Pol Pot in Cambodia, post which she witnessed a traumatic incident which resulted in the murder of one of her colleagues in her hotel in Cambodia. So, adding her own story in addition to these three women could have also been an interesting choice.

On the whole, I would say that this was a very interesting book, and there was a lot for me to learn – about these women and their struggles in this field, the situation in Vietnam and its surroundings and the experience of someone in captivity with the Viet Cong. On that note, I had a good reading experience and I would award the book a rating of seven on ten.

Rating – 7/10

Have a nice day,
Andy

Home Coming by John Bradshaw – Book Review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

‘Are you outwardly successful but inwardly do you feel like a big kid? Do you aspire to be a loving parent but all too often “lose it” in hurtful ways? Do you crave intimacy but sometimes wonder if it’s worth the struggle? Or are you plagued by constant vague feelings of anxiety or depression?

If any of this sounds familiar, you may be experiencing the hidden but damaging effects of a painful childhood—carrying within you a “wounded inner child” that is crying out for attention and healing.

In this powerful book, John Bradshaw shows how we can learn to nurture that inner child, in essence offering ourselves the good parenting we needed and longed for. Through a step-by-step process of exploring the unfinished business of each developmental stage, we can break away from destructive family rules and roles and free ourselves to live responsibly in the present. Then, says Bradshaw, the healed inner child becomes a source of vitality, enabling us to find new joy and energy in living.’

Home Coming is a book on psychology by motivational speaker John Bradshaw – known for his famous 12 step programme, used by Alcoholics Anonymous. The book presents an interesting idea, that how, to get through any process of healing, we need to heal our inner child and the book talks about reclaiming this child at various stages, the ‘infant-self’, the ‘the toddler-self', etc. The author shares personal anecdotes from a lot of people whom he knows, to present the problems they were facing and how they could reclaim this ‘inner child’ in them.

I tried to read this with a very open mind – given that in the first few pages, I realised that should this author and I have a hypothetical conversation, we were going to disagree on most things. To start with, I did not like his writing style – which was non inclusive and even went on to say that when he writes ‘he’, he refers to everyone regardless of how they identify themselves; even for brevity, there are perfectly reasonable gender-neutral alternatives in English which the author did not consider.

But that was the point less contentious. I do not personally mind reading books from religious people or even books on religion – so long as I feel that there could be some takeaways for me even though I would disagree with a lot of their statements. The book invoked god a lot, and full disclosure here – I am an atheist and hence, reading with that open mind was important. Having said that, the author made a lot of sweeping conclusions – such as children being natural believers and religious. In his attempted inclusiveness, he wrote on several occasions (it was not one isolated citation from the book, if that had been the case, it would have been easy for me to overlook) - that regardless of the reader’s current relationship with ‘god’, their inner child is a natural believer.

This book hardly had any citations or references and most of his conclusions were based on anecdotes he shared. So, I would also share my personal anecdote that I was never religious despite growing up in a religiously conservative household – and was never convinced with the idea as early as I was five. While I went along with the religious rituals as a child – that was more because of my unconditional trust on my parents (as most children would, on their parents or caregivers), than an inclination towards belief and by the time I was eight, I said to myself that I could no longer do this and openly started identifying myself as an atheist. And I am no exception here – many irreligious people I know have had similar experiences as a child, and people whom I know who have grown up in households where their parents / caregivers were irreligious, this was never a question that crossed their mind.

So, to go ahead with what the author was suggesting, for me personally was not possible because of the author’s inherent assumption of the reader’s child self being religious. There were several other sweeping assumptions that the author made – such as the author assuming their reader to be in their mid 30s or early 40s, married at around 25, and with children.

I personally do not mind any assumptions that a writer makes – so long as the target audience is clearly specified, but here the author tries to sell it as a universal book which does not work. Moreover, the author makes some dangerous statements in this book – and if someone is trying to heal themselves from certain trauma – these are certainly not the best of words to read:

‘God does not die on the day we cease to believe in a personal deity, but we die on the day when our lives cease to be illuminated by the steady radiance, renewed daily, of a wonder, the source of which is beyond all reason.’

Perhaps the author is oblivious to the fact that there are people, several of whom are neither religious nor spiritual and telling them that they are effectively ‘dead’ is not the best of things to say. He is not the only person in this profession who has made such statements though, I have had therapists who have made similar statements.

To conclude, I did not enjoy this book and I felt the author was imposing his views on the reader than open up a discussion. This maybe suited to people who have an upbringing in his specific faith and continue to hold those beliefs, but for everyone else, it is not an ideal book. I award this book a rating of three on ten.

Rating – 3/10

Have a nice day,
Andy

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous by Ocean Vuong – Book Review

 

Publisher’s-write-up:

‘On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous is a letter from a son to a mother who cannot read. Written when the speaker, Little Dog, is in his late twenties, the letter unearths a family's history that began before he was born — a history whose epicenter is rooted in Vietnam — and serves as a doorway into parts of his life his mother has never known, all of it leading to an unforgettable revelation. At once a witness to the fraught yet undeniable love between a single mother and her son, it is also a brutally honest exploration of race, class, and masculinity. Asking questions central to our American moment, immersed as we are in addiction, violence, and trauma, but undergirded by compassion and tenderness, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous is as much about the power of telling one's own story as it is about the obliterating silence of not being heard.’

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous is an attempted novel from Ocean Vuong. The lead character is Little Dog, who is writing a letter to his illiterate mother – about his troubles growing up with his mother and grandmother, the abusive experiences he has had, both in the family and in the society at large, being a second generation immigrant of Vietnamese origins and yes, the lack of acceptance of his queer identity by his family.

The premise is interesting which was the reason why I wanted to like this book and I tried hard to do so. The book I understand is also autobiographical or what is increasingly happening – a type of autofiction, fictionalising one’s own story. The writer certainly had a style – and had a poetic writing style. I appreciate poetry, but I prefer to appreciate it while reading a poem, not read a prose that has forcibly inserted aspects of poetry.

What I find increasingly with many authors is that, they are trying to tick off a few boxes – given this character has issues with his mother, there is the angle of racism, struggles of someone with an immigrant background, struggles with his understanding of masculinity, the fact that he is gay in a family that does not accept it, etc. and he tried to insert all of this into his book. While I am someone who is sympathetic to all of these causes – and was precisely the reason why I tried to like this book, the narration fell flat.

If I had read the acknowledgements section a little earlier, maybe I would have avoided this altogether, given that the person whom he thanked in particular was Ben Lerner – the author of 10:04; a book that I read last year which I did not enjoy, at all – which was another case of a vague attempt at autofiction. If that was the target audience, it would have been evident to me from the very beginning that I was not the person for this book.

To conclude, I found nothing in this book, I read this book for my local book club discussion and like in many of these kinds of books, the discussion was more interesting than the book itself. Definitely the worst book that I read in 2023. On that note, I would award this book a rating of two on ten.

Rating – 2/10

Have a nice day,
Andy

Papillon by Henri Charrière – Book Review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

‘An immediate sensation upon its publication in 1969, Papillon is a vivid memoir of brutal penal colonies, daring prison breaks and heroic adventure on shark-infested seas.Condemned for a murder he did not commit, Henri Charriere, nicknamed Papillon, was sent to the penal colony of French Guiana. Forty-two days after his arrival he made his first break for freedom, travelling a thousand gruelling miles in an open boat. He was recaptured and put into solitary confinement but his spirit remained untamed: over thirteen years he made nine incredible escapes, including from the notorious penal colony on Devil’s Island.’

Note: I read this book in French

Afin de lire mon avis en français, cliquez ici

Papillon is an autobiographical book from Henri Charrière, who was accused of a murder and was eventually sent to French Guiana, which was then a penal colony. This book recounts his incredible story, where he took up the name ‘Papillon’ (Butterfly in French) and tried to escape the colony, several times and how he reconstructed his life.

The story starts with his conviction in France during the inter-war period. He was first sent to the prison in Caen, Normandy, before being sent to French Guiana. He recounts the tough conditions under which he lived, the friendships that he had made in the prison during these times, and the steps he took to get reprieve from the miscarriage of justice. During this story, he did succeed initially to escape the colony, set up a new life with the indigenous people in an island in the Caribbean before deciding to go back to French Guiana to get his justice.

This was an incredible story that almost felt like reading a thriller novel. I am using the word ‘novel’ deliberately over here as I am not sure if the retelling by the author is entirely honest; which included me not being sure on where he was exaggerating or simply making things up. However, it was still interesting to know what was going on in French Guiana during this time and how it was used as a prison which had harsh living conditions. The political aspect was also interesting, given the French Guyanese administration backed the Vichy regime and the impact that had on his potential acquittal was interesting. The most interesting character in this whole book is for sure, that of Papillon, maybe a tad too glorified, as someone who had solutions at any given situation. The conversations he had with the priests at the church was very something I enjoyed, given that Papillon was an atheist.

The only problem I found with this book is the character of Papillon himself – even though he was unjustly condemned in France, the actions he took while in the colony were hardly honourable, which included betraying his peers, and even abandoning his wives from the indigenous islands after having impregnated them. Thus, it was difficult for me to believe that he was someone completely clean and was certainly capable of doing very bad things.

To conclude, whether we believe this book to be the whole truth or not, I still found it to be an interesting read which gave a good insight into the historic situation in French Guiana. On that note, I award the book a rating of seven on ten.

Rating – 7/10

Have a nice day,
Andy

Strangers to Ourselves by Rachel Aviv – Book Review

 

Publisher’s write-up:

‘Strangers to Ourselves is a compassionate, courageous and deeply researched look at the ways we talk about and understand ourselves in periods of crisis and distress. Drawing on conversations as well as unpublished journals and memoirs, it follows people who have found that psychiatric language has limitations when it comes to explaining who they are, or that a diagnosis, while giving their experience a name, creates a sense of a future life they wish to question or resist.

Rachel Aviv is known for her radical empathy: she excels at seeing the world through the eyes of her fellow human beings. Writing first about her own experience of being institutionalized at the age of six, she introduces, among others, a mother recovering from psychosis and rebuilding her relationship with her children; a woman who lives in healing temples in Kerala, where she is celebrated as a saint; and a young woman who, after a decade of defining herself through her diagnosis, decides to stop her medication because she doesn't know who she is without it.

Through startling connections, intimate testimonies and diverse cultural perspectives, Aviv opens up fresh ways of thinking about illness and the mind, in a book which is curious, transformative, and above all, profoundly human.’

Strangers to Ourselves is a book written by writer and author Rachel Aviv. The book comprises accounts of five individuals going through severe mental illnesses and there is also a personal touch from the author herself, given she herself was diagnosed with anorexia at a young age.

The book talks about the starts the book with her own story and her struggles over the years and then moves on to the story of Ray, a person who is unable to accept the failure of his business which leads him to an identity crisis and eventually, ends up suing his doctor and other mental health professionals. The next is the story of Bapu – a woman from an affluent family in India who frequently abandons her family to seek refuge in religious institutions, and has schizophrenic visions of interacting with god and the divine. The next is the story of Naomi – a woman of African descent in the US, and the impact the societal circumstances has on her, and the people around her (including the youngest of her family).

I appreciate the author trying to narrate these complex mental situations through stories of people in the real world than citing multiple research papers (I am not demeaning the latter, but it is difficult for someone to relate to them from outside the field). She also spoke of multiple approaches that were used in these situations, including taking into account cultural considerations when talking of treatment. However, there were also some very far-reaching claims, such as on the Zoroastrian community in India having ‘westernised’ too fast which led to impacts on their mental health.

On the whole, while the stories themselves were interesting, I was not sure what was the point that the author was trying to drive home. If it was that there are different mental health diagnoses which could have dire impacts on people and also their entourage, we are already aware of that. I did like the approach of the author of discussing these people as individuals than ‘medical cases’, especially the detailed interviews with people around these patients, such as the children of Bapu, the ex-partner of Naomi, etc.

While I got to know some interesting case studies, I was unsure of the title or the purpose of this book and they often had very dire conclusions given their premise. On that note, I would aware this book a rating of four on ten.

Have a nice day,
Andy