Scan barcode
opheliapo's reviews
345 reviews
A Storm of Swords by George R.R. Martin
5.0
Not me being shocked at how good these books are despite EVERYBODY telling me they are.
Becoming by Michelle Obama
4.0
A very balanced and intelligent reflection on navigating the American system as an underprivileged young woman, and a fresh perspective on hope and healthy patriotism.
Killing Commendatore by Haruki Murakami
4.0
This was my first Murakami, but I won’t let my conflicting thoughts on it put me off reading more of his works; perhaps I shouldn’t have started here, though. I kept expecting all of the interesting concepts to tie together and they never did, and I was so disappointed. But then I couldn’t stop thinking about it, so maybe that was the point?
Tfw you can’t stop writing about a thirteen year old’s boobies tho.
Tfw you can’t stop writing about a thirteen year old’s boobies tho.
A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin
4.0
This is a big, bad boy who treats you mean but keeps you keen.
Heartstopper Volume 1 by Alice Oseman
4.0
This was really heartwarming, and a little heartbreaking, and completely charming.
(And I only cringed a couple of times at the off-base British slang use.)
(And I only cringed a couple of times at the off-base British slang use.)
Uncle Montague's Tales of Terror by Chris Priestley
4.0
This is a spooky little book. It is pleasantly creepy, but creepy indeed!
I first read Tales of Terror when I was around twelve and, upon finding it on my bookshelf nine years later, and remembering the fright one particular story had given me at the time, I decided to read it again, this time from an adults perspective.
The story that had scared me so much all those years ago was, in fact, the first: CLIMB NOT. The old fashioned, carefully worded style of Priestley's work had led me into a false sense of security. This is too simple to be scary, I said to myself. This is too fast paced to be scary. And even, somewhat grotesquely, this is too 'creepy cute' to be scary. Boy was I wrong. Whatever the thing in that story turned out to be, it scared adult me even more than it had scared child me.
The rest of the stories were not quite as effective, though I do think that had something to do with my decision no longer to read them at night.
On the whole I thoroughly enjoyed the polarity of the book: the consistent style, how the stories tied together, and David Roberts excellent illustrations.
I first read Tales of Terror when I was around twelve and, upon finding it on my bookshelf nine years later, and remembering the fright one particular story had given me at the time, I decided to read it again, this time from an adults perspective.
The story that had scared me so much all those years ago was, in fact, the first: CLIMB NOT. The old fashioned, carefully worded style of Priestley's work had led me into a false sense of security. This is too simple to be scary, I said to myself. This is too fast paced to be scary. And even, somewhat grotesquely, this is too 'creepy cute' to be scary. Boy was I wrong. Whatever the thing in that story turned out to be, it scared adult me even more than it had scared child me.
The rest of the stories were not quite as effective, though I do think that had something to do with my decision no longer to read them at night.
On the whole I thoroughly enjoyed the polarity of the book: the consistent style, how the stories tied together, and David Roberts excellent illustrations.
Grounding for the Metaphysics of Morals/On a Supposed Right to Lie Because of Philanthropic Concerns by Immanuel Kant
4.0
Listen I'm not going to sit here and pretend I have any idea what the fuck I just read. This shit is DENSE. But, my limited delving into philosophical writing has endowed me with an eye for 'important' themes and sentences, which helped a great deal while working through this book. The topic turned out to be fascinating, and I look forward to reading more Kant, even if only to get a little more context for the topics covered in this work.
I'm also going to plaster 'Men who cannot think believe that they will be helped out by feeling' (p.46) over everything that I own.
I'm also going to plaster 'Men who cannot think believe that they will be helped out by feeling' (p.46) over everything that I own.
The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood
3.0
I respect this book a great deal, though certain aspects of it were not to my tastes.
What struck me about A Handmaid’s Tale was, first and foremost, that I wanted so much more from it. From beginning to end the reader is denied a plot, a story, a narrative; anything to cling to. We are given no clue as to the fates of any other characters, not Luke, not Moira, not Ofglen, not Offred herself. Atwood provides for us our own set of bonnet wings, with a story set on giving us as narrow a view as possible. Not only is this telling of Offred’s actual perspective, but it adds a layer of believability to the tale. The book gives you no rebel to root for, no alliance, just a consistent string of personal histories, of death, loss, the unknown; all left untold. This is the price to pay for the hoarding of information and intellectual pursuit. The one small triumph at the end of the book, comes in the form of a recording that Offred leaves of her story, to be discovered decades later and cemented in history.
Within her very narrow perception of the world, Offred also often comes into contact with contradictory thoughts and feelings: her ‘old’ thoughts on women’s rights compared to the ones she has been forced to adopt, her feelings for the Commander, which are not always disdainful, her pity for Serena Joy, her lust and distrust of Nick. Her grating honesty about love and sex, especially how it denotes power and fear, say more, I think, about current day relationships than any of the atrocities committed against women within these pages.
What struck me about A Handmaid’s Tale was, first and foremost, that I wanted so much more from it. From beginning to end the reader is denied a plot, a story, a narrative; anything to cling to. We are given no clue as to the fates of any other characters, not Luke, not Moira, not Ofglen, not Offred herself. Atwood provides for us our own set of bonnet wings, with a story set on giving us as narrow a view as possible. Not only is this telling of Offred’s actual perspective, but it adds a layer of believability to the tale. The book gives you no rebel to root for, no alliance, just a consistent string of personal histories, of death, loss, the unknown; all left untold. This is the price to pay for the hoarding of information and intellectual pursuit. The one small triumph at the end of the book, comes in the form of a recording that Offred leaves of her story, to be discovered decades later and cemented in history.
Within her very narrow perception of the world, Offred also often comes into contact with contradictory thoughts and feelings: her ‘old’ thoughts on women’s rights compared to the ones she has been forced to adopt, her feelings for the Commander, which are not always disdainful, her pity for Serena Joy, her lust and distrust of Nick. Her grating honesty about love and sex, especially how it denotes power and fear, say more, I think, about current day relationships than any of the atrocities committed against women within these pages.