Finished reading The Old Ways by Robert Macfarlane. This is a rambling look at walking, paths, and sailing, and is also (unexpectedly) a little biography of Edward Thomas. I lost momentum about three quarters of the way through, but managed to recover and finish. Maybe I would have preferred the book to be a little shorter, but on the other hand it resonated with me enough that I bought a copy to have on hand when the library loan ends.
Finished reading Children of Time by Adrian Tchaikovsky. What if you meant to uplift other primates to sentience, but accidentally got spiders instead? About monomania and resilience, and empathy.
Finished reading Blitz by Daniel O’Malley. I didn’t think I was in the mood for the occasional bits of zaniness, but I think they lightened the story enough to keep it from collapsing in self-seriousness. Slow to start but quick to finish.
Finished reading City of Miracles by Robert Jackson Bennett, the final book of a trilogy. In a way, I wish the series hadn’t kept getting better — even though the first book was good, it’s awkward to recommend a book by saying that its sequels are even better. (This one was about regret and repentance and, eventually, making a good decision even if you haven’t always in the past. And aging, as a kind of sub-theme.)
Finished reading The Lola Quartet by Emily St. John Mandel, another book featuring an obsessive, helplessly-passive (up to a certain part of the book) man-child. (To be clear, I enjoyed this, as I have her other books so far, and there’s a clear progression from Last Night in Montreal through The Singer’s Gun to here.) It might be interesting to reread Station Eleven at this point, her next book in publication order, but I probably won’t.
I almost quit the book early on, as the main character’s particular form of self-destruction made me incredibly anxious, but I managed to power through.