Lee Hunts

Let's talk about immigration. The fun topic. We can brush up on shit-hole countries, invasions, people in need, and whether we should be more empathetic on this topic. In other words, we can talk about the recent novel, A Better Life, by Lionel Shriver. I have already reviewed one book by this author, We Need to Talk About Kevin, and to this day I consider it among my favorite novels ever written. It has probably some of the best character work that I have ever read, and it compares to Better Call Saul, actually. Just know that she did it first. If you are familiar with Better Call Saul, then you know that Jimmy's development into Saul over time—his corruption—may or may not have been caused by his brother; it is all ambiguous, and this is on purpose. We Need to Talk About Kevin has the same complexity with the central question that it asks: did the mother drive her own son to commit a mass shooting? The reader is left to think over the questions, and put the evidence together....

There has been a long-running debate among writers between how to best write prose. Simplifying a little, it can be broadly characterized as a division between those who argue for minimalism and those who argue for more ornate prose. Both sides have been derided—the former as "beige" or "dry," the latter as "purple." But I would say that minimalism is probably the most common form of writing, if only because it is easier. As a result of this, the debate almost always takes the form of someone like myself criticizing Sanderson for his prose, and a fan of his replying that his prose doesn't need to be ornate or poetic to be good. In other words, I usually find myself on the snotty "ornate" side of the debate. But I recently came across a few videos by Joseph V. Logsdon that seem to embody the literal caricature presented by the simple prose side, and I find myself on the other side of the argument. Now I want "minimalist" prose. Obvio...

An epic, anime inspired rebellion, a meditation on grief, a love story? All of it? The Sword of Kaigen, by M. L. Wang. This is a Japanese inspired fantasy, where a woman has long ago retired from her once violent past to become a housewife at the request of her father. She is now in a loveless marriage with a cold man and four sons who all seem to reflect his characteristics to varying degrees—save for one. She has struggled to find connection with her husband, and with her children, but that might be changing with her oldest starting to question the Empire that he has grown up in his whole life. This is the second perspective: the oldest son, practically a prodigy even though he is only fourteen years old. He is entirely fixated on uncovering his family's key secret, known as The Whispering Blade, a technique that is unparalleled in its power. His father is putting a lot of pressure on him, and he is not sure if he can do it. This book is well praised in the book community, though...