For the past couple of years, I’ve been trying desperately to get myself into better reading habits, alongside my steady writing habits. Strong reading makes for stronger writing, after all. Thankfully, with the help of my friends in my writing group, who I’ve recently started a book club with, I’m happy to report that I’m finally getting into a consistent reading schedule.
But rather than taking things slow with one book at a time, I seem to be thundering out of the gate, as it were. Over the course of the first three months of 2024, I managed to get through not one, not two, but four books, between reading two physical novels and listening to two audiobooks (thank you, Audible). These include Critical Role: Vox Machina – Kith & Kin by Marieke Nijkamp, The Memory Police by Yōko Ogawa, The Martian by Andy Weir, and Empire of Silence by Christopher Ruocchio. I physically read the two former titles and listened to the latter two, and what a great batch of stories this turned out to be.
So, I figure it’s only appropriate to break down my thoughts on these recent reads from winter 2024. I’ll touch on each of these in the order that I finished them. And here’s a spoiler warning, since I’m definitely going to properly dive into each of these books. Let’s go!
The Martian by Andy Weir
Andy Weir’s The Martian is, simply put, a brilliant piece of science fiction. The story follows astronaut Mark Watney as he is left behind on Mars after his team believe him dead following a storm, which forced them to evacuate the planet. The novel tracks Watney’s astonishing survival story, as he endures on Mars while the folks at NASA back on Earth endeavor to save his life. I was already quite familiar with the film adaptation of this novel before listening to the audiobook, and I was thrilled to learn firsthand just how faithful the movie was to the source material.
The science enthusiast in me absolutely loved listening to this audiobook, narrated by mega nerd Wil Wheaton. The narration was very smooth, and as I’ve purchased a physical copy of the book since finishing the audiobook, I can confidently say the prose in this novel is crisp and clean. It’s a big plus, especially for a story that juggles as much scientific jargon as it does, but it never becomes difficult to follow. If anything, all the deep scientific insights offered here serve to further enhance the story, as we see Watney’s intelligence and wit continually put to the task of saving his own life in the face of many harsh trials and tribulations.
I adore the book’s core thematic concept of fighting to survive no matter the cost—man’s will to survive, as it were. Mark Watney’s story isn’t always the most positive, as he, again, battles many grueling conditions and many life-threatening hurdles. But he never seems to fully lose hope, even at his absolute lowest; readers are offered plenty of moments to experience the character’s sincere humanity, whether it be through his anger, melancholy, or charming sense of humor. This, coupled with the expert use of pure sci-fi elements, allow for a seamless flow in the story.
One element I love about the book more than the film is just how much more fleshed out the supporting cast is. The rest of Mark’s crew feel much more like real people, as do all of the team at NASA back on Earth. That said, I’m also grateful to the film for cutting out some of the fluff here. Notably, the end of the book starts filling up with pieces that, while interesting, don’t necessarily serve the story’s pace very well. It obviously takes some time to get to Watney’s rescue, so when it seems like that moment is just on the horizon, the pages just keep stacking up with superfluous details and blow-by-blow elements that made everything drag a bit. Still, the ending definitely pays off, and Weir manages to stick a graceful landing.
Of the four books noted here, this one is definitely my favorite. It’s the perfect blend of science fact versus science fiction, mixed with intense and believable drama, and I’m glad to have added it to my shelf recently. I’m sure even passing sci-fi fans will find something to enjoy with this one. Definitely check this one out if you’ve got the time.
The Memory Police by Yōko Ogawa
The Memory Police was the first book my writing group’s book club read together, and it did not disappoint. At least, not totally. Unlike The Martian, this one proved to be a bit more of a mixed bag, though the positives certainly outweigh any negatives. The story follows an unnamed novelist as she and the rest of the citizens of her island, located somewhere in Asia, must grapple with the disappearances of various objects and ideas over time. The cause of these disappearances is unknown, but they are enforced thoroughly by the titular Memory Police. Some individuals, however, are able to remember the things that are lost, and it’s up to the protagonist to protect one such individual over the course of the book.
Simply put, this is a harrowing tale. There’s an obvious connection to be made to a story like Nineteen Eighty-Four, but it’s not at all unwarranted. This is the kind of dystopian world that won’t necessarily leave you scared, but it will have you endlessly pondering the worrisome possibilities of what such a societal outcome would mean. The disappearances symbolize the decay of humanity itself, while the people who can remember the things that are lost embody the importance of our past and the things we create as human beings. I was fond of the motif of sculptures being used to also empower this idea that our creations are meant to last and have meaning.
Along with its themes, The Memory Police is carried largely by its oppressive atmosphere; it always feels like something horrible is just around the corner. This is largely thanks to the simple yet effective prose, which is easy to read but never feels dull to the point of needing to put the book down out of boredom. The story succeeds in serving as a sort of twisted slice-of-life tale. The protagonist and her friends largely go about their lives in as normal a manner as they can. We as readers are able to ground ourselves in the world as we watch them eat dinner together and celebrate birthdays, just before being ripped back into the harsh reality when the next item or concept disappears, or some other disaster rocks the island. It’s very well-balanced, in this regard.
Much as I enjoyed this world, however, the setting isn’t perhaps as fleshed out as it could have been. The Memory Police themselves, in particular, are never given much explanation or time to breathe, so we don’t get to understand why they’re doing what they’re doing. Not knowing why the disappearances are happening is useful—it injects mystery into the story—but not knowing about the Memory Police seems jarring. They’re in the title of the book, after all, so why do we learn so little about them? There are all of two or three scenes in which the protagonist actively engages with the titular bad guys, and even then, only one of those moments feels truly daunting. It just seems like a very obvious missed opportunity.
Furthermore, since I tricked myself into believing this book was leading to a climax and conclusion à la Nineteen Eighty-Four, I essentially set myself up for failure, because that’s not at all what ends up happening. Granted, the ending is still quite unnerving, with the protagonist and everyone else on the island who can’t remember what’s been lost essentially fading away and dying (or simply being forgotten), but it never reaches what might otherwise be considered an expected conclusion. In some ways, it’s almost cheap. It’s not inherently bad, mind you; subverting expectations can be a good thing, but I’m not sure it totally works here.
Ultimately, by the end, I was left feeling a bit unfulfilled; it felt like something was missing. Then again, maybe that was the point. In any case, I’m really glad I gave this book a shot with my book club. Furthermore, I’d happily recommend it to anyone else out there in the mood for a bit of haunting speculative fiction.
Empire of Silence by Christopher Ruocchio
The first book in author Christopher Ruocchio’s series, The Sun Eater, Empire of Silence is a solid opening chapter to a truly sprawling sci-fi epic. Mingling elements of space opera storytelling with medieval fantasy worldbuilding, this book proved to be a hefty, hearty read, Or, more accurately, it was a lengthy listen on Audible; narrated by Samuel Roukin, the audiobook clocks in at just over 26 hours. Empire of Silence follows Hadrian Marlowe as he recounts the earliest days of his galaxy-spanning journey, which seems destined to end with him becoming a galactic legend, equal parts beloved hero and scorned pariah.
Right from the get-go, Ruocchio establishes that his protagonist will, at some point, destroy an entire sun, which immediately sets the stage for something grand within the pages of this series. Ultimately, though, this introductory block to Hadrian’s story is a tale of many different cages. The concepts of freedom are etched deeply into the galactic political drama that young Marlowe navigates, venturing from the life of a reluctant noble on his homeworld to that of a starving beggar on another world entirely. After a stint as a gladiatorial performer, he finds himself back within another pristine cage, one that allows his more inquisitive and intellectual nature to take root.
Hadrian’s characterization is interesting to track over the course of this book, particularly because we have that early knowledge that he’s destined for something epic. In light of this fact, it’s all the more interesting to see how he develops and grows into this titanic figure we know he’s going to become. He’s patient and markedly intelligent, but he’s not without flaw, succumbing to his emotions easily enough when the mood hits. And by the end of this book, he’s had plenty of time to live in many different lifestyles, so his worldview becomes well-rounded, which makes him wiser and, in some cases, more dangerous.
On top of a strong cast of characters, Ruocchio has a deft hand for worldbuilding, crafting a dense galaxy with plenty of interesting lore to fill it. He takes clear inspiration from other fantasy and sci-fi giants (I couldn’t help but think of Dune often while listening), but such ties are never egregious or distracting from the originality on display here. The alien race of the Cielcin are particularly curious to me, as they’re built up as marauding space travelers with crown-like horns to adorn them and set them apart from their human adversaries. Hadrian’s curiosity with the Cielcin and their worship of some long-forgotten gods is what draws him further and further into the galaxy-spanning conflict at the heart of the series.
While there is plenty to enjoy here, I think the book suffers from clearly being written as only a part of a larger story. Now, yes, this is perfectly fair; plenty of series are built up this way. Hadrian still learns a lot within this first chapter of his tale, and he has something akin to a full arc, but I think more could have been done to help this book stand on its own. The overall story doesn’t reach anything close to a conclusion. It’s begging for you to check out the next book, which, yes, I will do, but a stronger semblance of closure here wouldn’t hurt as well.
Ruocchio also kind of shoots himself in the foot by telling us up front that Hadrian will one day destroy a star—and kill all of the Cielcin and billions of humans in the process—because now we know where the story is heading, but it’s obviously never going to arrive at that point within this book. This is good and bad. On the one hand, it creates suspense and intrigue as we watch Hadrian begin his journey, but it also gets kind of annoying since we know something much more interesting is on the horizon—it’s just very, very far away. I don’t think I could rightly be blamed for getting a little impatient.
Even still, I had a great time listening through this book. I had originally discovered it years ago at Barnes & Noble; I just picked it up off the shelf, loved the cover, read a few pages, and told myself, “One day, I’m going to read this book.” Then I completely forgot about it for several years and couldn’t remember what the title even was until I was able to finally find it again via a Google search. “Space knight sci-fi series” was the leading search. Putting that aside, though, if you’re looking for another great sci-fi extravaganza to feast your eyes on, look no further than Empire of Silence.
Critical Role: Vox Machina – Kith & Kin by Marieke Nijkamp
Finally, we come to a book I had been waiting way too long to dive into but was ultimately left sort of disappointed by in the end. Marieke Nijkamp’s Critical Role: Vox Machina – Kith & Kin (that’s the last time I’ll use the full title) takes place in the fantasy setting of Exandria, which comes from Critical Role, the massively popular online D&D livestream series. The subjects of this book are two characters from the series’ first campaign, which revolved around the heroes known as Vox Machina. The story here takes place before the events of that campaign, following the half-elven twins Vax’ildan and Vex’ahlia, arguably two of the most popular of the Vox Machina bunch.
Before their time as world-saving heroes, Vex and Vax find themselves traveling far and wide throughout the continent of Tal’Dorei. During their travels, Vax becomes ingratiated with the thieves guild known as The Clasp. In order to appease the guild and get them off his tail, he and his sister must take a job to steal a precious ring from a place called Jorenn Village. In accepting this job, however, the twins quickly become entangled in a conflict between the local townsfolk, a band of renegade miners, and the living, ashen dead. It’s a conflict they are then forced to unravel and quell if they hope to see another day together.
The basic premise here makes for a solid fantasy story, one that established Critical Role fans will likely have little trouble digging into. Nijkamp clearly has a firm grasp on who the characters of Vax and Vex are; they’re deeply loyal to each other—inseparable to a fault. She also does herself plenty of favors by sticking to a localized region of the setting, rather than opening too many cans of worms by jumping all over the continent or involving too many factions. Nijkamp is able to build up her own little corner of Exandria and make it feel unique while also bringing new depth to the twins and telling her own story.
Unfortunately, though, the story we get here feels like the most simplified version of one that could be told with these characters. On the one hand, separating Vex and Vax and somewhat pitting them against each other amidst the regional quarrels is inherently interesting, given the strength of their bond. However, at the same time, I found it difficult to fully invest myself in the core conflict and the characters it involved, aside from the twins. I was much more interested in all the flashbacks to their childhoods, as opposed to anything going on in the novel’s present day. Part of me is left wondering if the story could have utilized more of those flashbacks, which featured a much richer family drama involving the twins’ father.
The novel, then, plays on the themes of the deep bonds people create with one another, particularly familial and romantic ones, but I’m not sure if the story really says anything worthwhile about any of that. Part of the problem there, I think, comes from the apparent need for the reader to be told much of the plot, action, and thematic flair, rather than being shown it. While the bond of the twins is heavily reinforced throughout, it feels more often than not that the reader is being told how much the two care for each other. I’d much prefer to be shown more of this. The sometimes-clunky prose doesn’t help with this either, with abrupt sentence structuring that could stand to use a few more commas and similar punctuation to help with the overall flow. It’s easy enough to read through, don’t get me wrong, but the editor in me kept screaming to see fewer periods every few lines.
In the end, I’m not sure I’d honestly recommend this one to anyone if they weren’t already a Critical Role fan. If you want some light fantasy reading, though, then feel free to give it a shot. I was hoping for more, but what I got out of Kith & Kin wasn’t bad by any stroke. I’d be interested to check out more of Nijkamp’s work, if anything, to see if she can excel further outside of the confines of a pre-established world. Something to look into down the line, I suppose. For now, though, I sadly have to put this one at the bottom of my list, as far as these four books go.
Final Thoughts
And there you have it. The first three months of 2024 down, and four books completed in that time. It feels good to be back on the reading grind. Maybe that wording isn’t entirely accurate; I’m not sure I was ever really on a reading grind to begin with. Let’s call it my new reading grind, then.
I’ll be back next month with another blog talking about the latest books I’ve devoured. As of right now, I intend to chat about Fonda Lee’s fantasy work, Untethered Sky, along Dave Grohl’s autobiography, The Storyteller. Tales of Life and Music. Until then, I hope you’ve enjoyed my ramblings about my winter readings. Peace!