To begin bluntly, reading this book is like swimming through porridge.
A science fantasy novel entirely in te reo Māori accompanied by a DVD featuring Katerina Mataira as the narrator. This is an AWESOME book, and beautifully written. The the first science fantasy novel I know of, that’s written in te reo Māori.
As the book unfolds it becomes clear that the central threat to Borlú and the Cities is, and always has been, existential; it lies in their un- knowledge and un-perception of each other. To solve the case Borlú must decipher the boundaries of his cultural reality—he must see for the first time in his life.
The Marriage Plot traces the lives of Brown University students Madeline, Mitchell and Leonard in a turmoil of overseas adventures, a struggle with manic depression, and graduation in the year of ’82.
There are so many stories written in and of Prague that the city’s streets, both real and imagined, are teeming with plots and characters. There is a novel, somewhere, in the observance of doors opening and closing as protagonists from across history and the pages of literature shuffle about those cobbled streets, each missing one another by [...]
You know the feeling. It’s two o’clock in the morning. You’ve got an exam in two weeks. An essay due in tomorrow. You don’t remember the last time you picked up a textbook. You don’t remember the last time you bought a textbook. Things are grim. You begin to wonder whether you made the right choice [...]
affection for life. Ripe with loving descriptions and detailed knowledge of every facet of London life; of jazz, mythology, history, science, Aaronovitch’s interests are all-encompassing and deeply passionate.
By Emily Perkins As any discerning reader will know, the aims of writers are not always equivalent; nor the purpose of fiction fixed. American author Ann Patchett recently described consuming fiction as “a vital means of imagining a life other than our own, which in turn makes us more empathetic beings.” Emily Perkins’ new novel [...]
I’ve been craving the taste of a raw Wellington language. Something less polished than its acclaimed authors, more considered than its small-talking streets and mouthy pubs. I’ve been after it in its frankest expression; played with like bath foam blown in the air or slapped on the chin as a beard. Words bind, and people [...]