Month: July 2019

“It is worse, much worse, than you think.” Thus begins “The Uninhabitable Earth: A Story of the Future” written by journalist David Wallace-Wells. His take on climate change began with a 2017 New York magazine article that went viral and he’s an elegant, disciplined writer over the course of the eighteen or so punchy chapters. Twelve of them cover the facts: heat death, hunger, plagues of warming, etc., etc., a litany of what is guaranteed to come and what will probably come and what might come. As an antidote to the constrained conservatism of the otherwise heroic IPCC reports, Wallace-Wells is a bracing if thoroughly depressing guide to Earth’s future. The book’s final chapters address modes of thought and reaction to the unfolding tragedy; I found them fascinating whilst not always emerging satisfied. By book’s close, our oracle kicks us again (” No human has ever lived on a planet as hot as this one; it will get hotter.”) then offers oblique comfort: ” There is one civilization we know of, and it is still around, and kicking—for now, at least. Why should we be suspicious of our exceptionality, or choose to understand it only by assuming an imminent demise? Why not choose to feel empowered by it?” As reader, you’ll choose your own response. Whatever you do, do not ignore this vital book.

Ex-comedian Caimh McDonnell’s fast and funny crime fiction series starring Bunny McGarry, a violence-prone but (in my eyes) lovable Irish thug now roaming the streets of New York, is always a blast. “I Have Sinned” is no exception, plonking the sharp-tongued thunderball into a wild caper involving a padre, an order of Sisters, and a weird gang of assassins. The author is a master of madcap, with several of the set-piece scenes (including the very first one), making me guffaw aloud. In pace and mode and sharpness of wit, it reminds me most of Carl Hiaasen, and that’s no small accolade.

We’re used to binge watching but I’ve managed, sort of, to also binge read occasionally, most notably recently with the post-apocalyptic sci-fi series of The Long Night by Kevin Partner and Mike Kraus. The first three books represented a classy, steady accretion of story, and I dubbed the next two instalments as “a heady brew.” “Showdown” presents the rousing finale, with our three main protagonists finally united and, together with a hefty roster of fighters, engaged in a final fight over the fate of this post-apocalyptic United States against the seemingly unstoppable Lee Corporation. The authors are as adept at staging the micro skirmishes as the they are with the now inevitable full combat scenes. If I was able to roughly posit the mechanism of closure, that did not spoil my enjoyment in the slightest. The almost-end of the world has never been so enjoyable.

“River of Salt” is a departure by multi-talented Dave Warner, a slow-burning, highly localised mystery/thriller set in a tiny coastal Australian town. The hero is Blake Saunders who operates the Surf Shack and plays guitar in its band, The Twang. Unknown to all is his background as former Philadelphia mob hitman, and when a wacky pal is charged with a brutal murder, Blake’s desperate investigations bring past and present together. Warner is an evocative, stylish writer who somehow reminds me of Garry Disher, a favorite of mine, and the characters (the town Coral Shoals is one) sing. “River of Salt” is not high octane but is a satisfying two-evening read.

Ted Chiang is the thinking person’s sci-fi inventor, a writer of amazing short stories in the tradition, perhaps, of Phillip K. Dick. Chiang’s output is not prolific but a piercing intelligence illuminates his eclectic body of works. He might well drift in obscurity, except his most famous story was made into the stunning sci-fi movie “Arrival.” Now his second volume “Exhalation.” showcase seven short stories published over the last decade and a half, plus two new tales. All of the stories vary in subject matter, style, tone, and plotting. All of them make the reader think. A handful seem didactic but if these aren’t what you come to sci-fi for, rest assured. There are at least two long gems here. “Anxiety Is the Dizziness of Freedom” posits a world in which commercially sold prisms let you interrogate your alternative realities a little apart from you own. And “The Lifecycle of Software Objects” is glorious, a galloping tale of avatar-style software-bound “lives” tended by a zookeeper. Ted Chiang celebrates imagination at its most free and lyrical.

If you have any interest at all in expanding your attentiveness or in finding new ways to see the world or in unlocking your creative spark, I commend “The Art of Noticing: Rediscover What Really Matters to You.” Brilliant design journalist Rob Walker is a magpie, picking out how artists and thinkers of many different types cultivate a muscle of paying attention, of “noticing.” The book is a cornucopia of 131 different exercises, some almost puny, some major projects, all persuading you to no longer just coast through life. Walker is an engaging, lucid writer who really sweeps you up. Me, I’ve decided to have a go at five of his 131, and just by listing them, you can tell if this book is for you: “Spot something new every day”; “Don’t photograph, draw” (I’m such a bad artist that I can’t wait to do this without fear of failure); “Follow the quiet” (just walk in the direction of least noise); “Take a photo walk, with no camera”; and “Interview a friend, loved one, stranger – or even an ideological nemesis)”. Marvellous

Here’s one for the geeks, the real heroes of the universe. Forget the soldiers, the tycoons, the footballers, it’s the programmers, the ones who write the code that underpins our modern world, who rule. Clive Thompson, an assured chronicler and a deft stylist, does something remarkable with “Coders,” attempting to write the history of modern programming, and to a large degree, succeeds. Moving through the generations of hardware and software, and the generations of attending coders, Thompson interviews the super creators, the uber coders, the role models for all those filmic tropes we love, but also the regular folks who program for a living. He addresses meritocracy, gender biases, coding style, and our current discontents with the ubiquitous software we use. I’ve done some coding in my own life, of a very mixed quality, and I’ve written fictional characters from that world, so I found every chapter fascinating. If at the end one has the feeling that “Coders” does not quite delineate a coherent history, well, I think we’ll need the luxury of some more passing time before we have anything truly magisterial. In the meantime, this is a balm for the soul, a paean to those who shape the digital.