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calciopics · 2 years ago

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14 famous footballers' sons looking to make it big

Want to feel old? The offspring of players that seemingly retired only yesterday are taking their first steps in the game

Poor Alfe-Inge Haaland. A competent Premier League player who won 34 caps for Norway is now most famous for being the dad of Erling.

The Manchester City striker has already had a better career than his dad, with all due respect to the former City, Leeds and Nottingham Forest midfielder. But what about other sons of famous footballers?

Here are 14 players aged 21 or under looking to follow in their fathers’ footsteps…

Etienne Eto'o

One of the greatest African footballers of all time, Samuel Eto'o enjoyed a magnificent career with the likes of Real Mallorca, Barcelona and Inter (Everton, less so).

Two of his brothers, David and Etienne, are also footballers, and Samuel has a son who is now taking his first steps in the game. Etienne Eto'o had a trial with Benfica in 2021, before signing his first professional deal with fellow Portuguese side Vitoria de Guimaraes this year.

Khephren Thuram

A World Cup, European Championship and UEFA Cup winner during his playing days, Lilian Thuram is France’s all-time record appearance maker with 142 caps. His first son Marcus clearly inherited dad’s talent: the Borussia Monchengladbach forward has an outside chance of being included in Didier Deschamps’ squad for Qatar.

Just over three years younger than Marcus, Khephren Thuram is a regular for France’s Under-21s. Born in Italy while Lilian was playing for Parma, Khephren is a key part of Lucien Favre’s Nice team.

Isaac Drogba

A Chelsea legend who won virtually everything there is to win at Stamford Bridge, Didier Drogba is widely regarded as one of the greatest strikers in Premier League history.

His son, Isaac, was part of Chelsea’s youth setup until 2018, when he joined French outfit Guingamp. The centre-forward spent a few months with Caratese in the Italian lower leagues last year, and is now turning out for Portuguese side Coimbra.

Harvey Neville

When Phil Neville joined Valencia as a coach in 2015, he brought his son Harvey with him. The youngster, who like his dad can play at full-back or in midfield, later spent three years on Manchester United’s books.

Neville Jr. again followed his dad to Inter Miami in 2021. After 18 appearances for the club’s second team, the 20-year-old was brought into the senior squad for the 2022 campaign.

Romeo Beckham

Playing his trade alongside Neville at Inter Miami is a man with an even more famous dad. Romeo, the second of David Beckham’s three sons, once spent a few months on the books of Arsenal, and he is now playing for the MLS club’s second team.

Inter Miami, of course, are part-owned by the former England captain. Romeo may one day feel the need to escape from his father’s considerable shadow.

Theo Zidane

One of the most significant figures in the history of Real Madrid, Zinedine Zidane will always be associated with the Blancos more than any other club. And although he stepped down from his role as Madrid manager in 2021, the Zidane clan still has representation at the Bernabeu.

That is courtesy of Theo, a promising midfielder who plays for Real Madrid Castilla. His two older brothers are professional footballers too: fellow midfielder Enzo is at Fuenlabrada and Luca is a goalkeeper for Eibar.

Andri Gudjohnsen

Papa Eidur Gudjohnsen is familiar to football fans from his successful spells at Bolton, Chelsea and Barcelona, plus short stints at Tottenham, Stoke and Fulham. But he hails from proper football stock: his own dad was an Icelandic international, too – Eidur made his debut as a substitute for Arnor in 1996 – and his brother came up through Swansea’s youth system.

Now he has three sons in the sport as well. Eldest Sveinn Aron plays for IF Elfsborg, youngest Daniel Tristan is in Malmo’s academy, while middle child Andri Lucas is a striker currently plying his trade at IFK Norrkoping in Sweden. He spent time in both Barcelona and Real Madrid’s youth setups, even making the senior squad for Real Madrid’s Champions League campaign in 2021.

Aged 20, Andri has 12 caps for Iceland and two goals to his name.

James Carragher

A boyhood Everton fan, Jamie Carragher became a Liverpool legend during a one-club career which saw him play 737 times for the Reds. His son James spent six years in the club’s academy but was let go in 2017.

Picked up by Wigan, Carragher Jr. made his professional debut for the Latics in August 2021. A 6ft 4in centre-back, the 20-year-old is currently on loan at Oldham in the National League.

Gio Reyna

A United States international, Reyna was also eligible to represent England due to his birthplace of Sunderland. His dad Claudio was playing for the Black Cats at the time; the midfielder also turned out for Bayer Leverkusen, Rangers, Manchester City and New York Red Bulls during his career.

His son Giovanni came through the New York City academy before moving to Borussia Dortmund in 2019. He has since made 86 appearances for the German giants and won 14 caps for his country.

Maurizio Pochettino

Mauricio Pochettino is known for his managerial exploits these days, but he had an excellent playing career with the likes of of Espanyol, PSG and the Argentina national team.

His son Maurizio spent time at the academies of Southampton and Tottenham while his dad was the first-team manager of both clubs. After spending last term at Watford, the 21-year-old joined Spanish side Gimnastic in the summer.

Maxim Gullit

Ruud Gullit was one of the best footballers of his generation. A title winner with three different clubs, the Dutchman also lifted two European Cups with AC Milan and Euro ‘88 with the Netherlands.

His son Maxim would do well to match his father’s achievements in the game, but the Cambuur defender comes from rich footballing stock: his mum Estelle is a niece of the late, great Johan Cruyff.

Daniel Maldini

When Daniel Maldini made his AC Milan debut in 2020, he was the third generation of his family to play for the Italian giants, after grandad Cesare and father Paolo. But unlike those two club greats, the youngest Maldini is not a defender but an attacking midfielder.

He has made 24 appearances for the Rossoneri in total but is spending the 2022/23 campaign on loan at Spezia.

Charlie Savage

Robbie Savage was on co-commentary duty for BT Sport when his son Charlie made his Manchester United debut in 2021. “What a proud day for my boy… what a day for me, his mother, his grandparents,” an emotional dad said as the young midfielder entered the Old Trafford pitch.

A Wales Under-21 international, Savage Jr. plays in the same midfield position as his dad - although the 19-year-old insists he’s less tenacious and more technically gifted than the old man.

Benjani Jr.

Benjani played for four Premier League clubs - Portsmouth, Manchester City, Blackburn and Sunderland - between 2006 and 2011. The striker went on to represent two clubs in South Africa, before hanging up his boots in 2014.

His son, known as Benjani Jr., signed a professional contract with Yeovil Town in October 2022, having previously been part of Portsmouth’s academy.

By Greg Lea - FourFourTwo

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unganseylike · 10 months ago

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Hi y’all! As promised, here’s my 2023 reading wrap-up – my reviews and thoughts about some of the books I read this year :) As a heads up, some of these reviews may contain very very vague and mild spoilers just because I personally feel like it’s impossible to give a good sense of my thoughts on media without that; so I’ll list the books I’m going to include in the order mentioned above the cut in case you want to 100% avoid any potential spoilers. Another disclaimer- these reviews are each quite different in content; my goal was to give a synopsis (except for a few I didn’t feel were worth my time), give my thoughts and mostly-non-spoilery takeaways, and connect to an overarching theme of this post. My initial goal was to write like 2 sentences for each book, but that definitely is not what happened. This is a long post. A long post where I gave into my inner booktuber and wrote like I was doing a video. I enjoyed writing this, but. It’s a lot. You might not enjoy reading it.

If you’ve read these books, I’d love to hear what you all thought…Since these are all books I read this year, I haven’t gotten to re-read any yet, and I’d love to have some new things to think about when I do! Please tell me if you check out these books after reading my list <3

Also…let me know if you have any books you’d recommend. I think this list might just give a sense of my picky taste.

I’d like to give a shoutout the love of my life, Libby, for making this possible.

Books, in order of mention, with numerical ratings:

What Moves the Dead- T. Kingfisher: 5/10

The Hollow Places- T. Kingfisher: 6.5/10

The Hacienda- Isabel Cañas: 9/10

The Honeys- Ryan La Sala: 7/10

I’m Thinking of Ending Things- Iain Reid: 7.5/10

The Ruins- Scott Smith: 3.5/10

The Cabin at the End of the World- Paul Tremblay: 4.5/10

The Beautiful Ones- Silvia Moreno-Garcia: 4/10

The Daughter of Doctor Moreau- Silvia Moreno-Garcia: 6/10

Where Ivy Dares to Grow- Marielle Thompson: 5/10

Beloved- Toni Morrison and The Turn of the Screw- Henry James (brief discussion, no ratings)

Paris Is a Party, Paris Is a Ghost- David Hoon Kim: 8.5/10

The Fragile Threads of Power- V.E. Schwab: 4/10

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue- V.E. Schwab: 4/10

When the Angels Left the Old Country- Sacha Lamb: 6.5/10

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes- Suzanne Collins: 8.5/10

Project Hail Mary- Andry Weir: no rating because didn’t finish (bad)

Station Eleven- Emily St. John Mandel: 7.5/10

Severance- Ling Ma: 9/10

Annihilation- Jeff VanderMeer: 9.5/10

The Archive of Alternate Endings: Lindsey Drager: 8/10

Ok, let’s kick this off with my first category: horror and/or I read this because I thought it was horror but it wasn’t. Over the last two years or so, I’ve gotten into reading horror–ish books, because I like the genre expectations, and it freaks me out less to read it than watch it.

Over the summer, I decided to check out T. Kingfisher. I’d heard good stuff about her as a horror author. I first read What Moves the Dead. This is an adaptation of Edgar Allen Poe’s short story “The Fall of the House of Usher.” Both this book and the new Netflix show are pretty different from the original and each other, but of the two adaptations, What Moves the Dead is probably closer in tone and setting (19th century countryside, gothic elements), but that’s mainly because the Netflix show has barely anything to do with the original (thanks Mike Flanagan!). Like the original, the plot kicks off with the narrator receiving a letter from the Ushers asking for help, leading them to travel to a crumbling manor. On the other hand, Kingfisher’s book does casually take place in what must be an alternate reality; it’s set in the fictional country Ruritania, and the narrator, Alex, is from another fictional country Gallicia. This world building mainly functions to normalize nonbinary identity and unique sets of pronouns. This does play into the plot, but I feel like it wasn’t necessary to create a fictional culture just for this, or otherwise it should’ve played more of a role in the story…like the narrator could’ve just said ka uses neopronouns and it would’ve been more straightforward than creating whole new countries. This worldbuilding aspect was probably my biggest issue with the book (though of course I love cool linguistic discussions about pronouns and gender!), maybe along with the random cameos by Eugenia Potter (as in, relative of thee Beatrix Potter, of Peter Rabbit fame). There are some great creepy bits with fungus, rot, rabbits, and corpses. There are some similarities to the fungal horror in Mexican Gothic (which T. Kingfisher actually discusses in the appendix), but it’s not quite the same – either way, we love the crossover between fungus and gothic lit! Overall, certainly a far better adaptation of Poe’s story than Mike Flanagan’s, but some of the original content seemed out of place, while other original aspects needed more fleshing out. 5/10.

I decided to try another book by T. Kingfisher, The Hollow Places, which I had heard really good things about! This one’s an adaptation of the novella “The Willows” by Algernon Blackwood, which features some sinister willows and cosmic horror (fun fact: I read the novella because Algernon Blackwood is where Martin Blackwood of TMA gets his last name) (fun fact 2: read “The Willows” it fucks. it’s free on project gutenberg). Unlike What Moves the Dead, Hollow Places takes place very much in the present, following a recently divorced woman who moves into her uncle’s museum of oddities. She and her GBF (okay, actually, he’s the eccentric middle aged neighbor who is a barista at the cafe the narrator goes to get wifi, but he does feel a bit gay best friend cliche to me) slip through a hole in reality to an in-between dimension full of willow-y islands…and hungry eldritch beings beyond their perception. Please appreciate that full sentence. I really liked the times while the duo was in this other place, but some of the moments in their own dimension felt a bit discordant; I honestly think it’s because their present was so modern. Like it felt weird to read them discussing memes after exploring a deadly pocket world. But maybe that’s the point of setting horror/fantasy in the modern world instead of a vague past. Despite this complaint, I actually think this a better adaptation in comparison to What Wakes the Dead, with original content nicely expanding on aspects of the novella. I did kinda hate the climax, but I’ll ignore that and rate this 6.5/10. When you fear getting torn apart by terrifying otherworldly beings, it really does put your ex-husband’s annoying texts into perspective.

Before I get back to mid books, let’s talk about one I really liked: The Hacienda from Isabel Cañas. I actually wrote a few notes about this right when I read it because I knew I wanted to share something about it eventually. Those notes were: “cinematic, especially in flashbacks, not so typical final girl or just female protag period.” Which was not that helpful for writing this review because I don’t remember wtf I was talking about, but I’ll try to interpret past-Julia for you all. The book takes place after the Mexican War for Independence, during which the father of the main character, Beatriz, was executed. So, with her and her mother dependent on the goodwill of their cruel estranged family, Beatriz happily accepts a proposal from a hacienda owner and is ready to prove herself a capable homemaker. But, there’s something deeply wrong with the house, something that wants Beatriz dead. The only one that believes her is the priest Andrés, who has recently returned to the area, where his beloved grandmother had taught him witchcraft and had been a pillar of the community. He struggles to keep his witchcraft secret, while protecting Beatriz and trying to take on his grandmother’s mantle. I think I enjoyed nearly every moment of this book! I got a little stuck on the beginning, but once I got through the first few chapters, I was so invested in the story and was really following the ups and downs as Beatriz tries to solve the mystery and escape some evil shit. I loved the main characters, especially the women and Beatriz’s role as a gothic/horror heroine (hence the “not so typical final girl” note?), and I remember being surprised by the actions of characters I thought I was rooting for! Also, it must be said. Hot. Priest. I’m not generally a big fan of romances, but it worked for me lol. And, as I said in my notes, some scenes were so cinematic- I could picture exactly how they’d play out in a (good) movie. 9/10! I need to reread this, it was one of my favorite books I read this year!

Around the same time, I read The Honeys by Ryan La Sala, and also had written down some terrible notes (adding some punctuation to make it semi-readable): “the horror of hypermasculinity, hyperfemininity, and the gender binary, bees, mean girl cliques, superorganisms like bees and aspen and rot. Actually very similar to midsommar in terms of grieving protag and sunlight horror and uhhhh joining a cult. Also I learned the term social horror.” I think that says it all…but I’ll give a more clear summary. When Mars’ twin sister dies terribly, he decides to attend her preppy summer camp in her place to reconnect with her memory and learn about her strange violent death. Mars is genderfluid and has always struggled in his political and public-facing family, thus resulting in his parents placing their hopes and confidence in his sister. But at Aspen Conservatory, Mars finds himself drawn away from the traditional gender roles of the camp and toward his sister’s elite and insular female friend group, the Honeys. They seem to accept Mars as one of their own, but what exactly does that mean? Overall, I really enjoyed the book, especially for all the creepy stuff that happens by daylight. It’s a great example of social horror; the gender binary sure is sinister in this book! I had a few complaints though. I thought Mars was a fun protagonist, but I didn’t always understand his motivations and occasionally he felt a bit annoying to me…but he is a teenager who has just witnessed his sister’s horrific death, so perhaps that behavior was intentional. I wasn’t a fan of the mystery reveal/conclusion, it felt a bit out-of-left-field to me, but maybe I just missed something. Also, it was a little too YA for me at this point in my life (though I wouldn’t actually classify it as strictly YA, if that makes sense), but I’m picky about genre, as you will see in these reviews. 7/10– after writing this review, I’m definitely considering rereading so I can see if I pick up on more foreshadowing!

I had a note saved for my next book I’m Thinking of Ending Things (Iain Reid), but it’s a spoiler for the entire thing so I won’t share. All I’ll say is, it was a joke about final girls…you’ll get it if you read it. I read this after trying to watch the movie on Netflix and giving up because it was boring in a discomfiting way (the stilted conversation and repetition was all intentional but it was getting to me), but I still wanted to know what happened and figured the things that bothered me in a film media wouldn’t be problematic in a book. I honestly don’t know how to describe this because it’s super surrealist and very easy to spoil with any of my personal takeaways. Most basic summary of all time: a woman questioning her relationship with her new boyfriend decides to go on a road trip to meet his parents. I actually recommend watching the movie trailer to see whether you’d like the book, because it gives a good sense of the inexplicable weird and tense vibe and atmospheric horror. 7.5/10 because reading this made me feel itchy. It was supposed to make me uneasy, and it sure did the job.

Ok, next are two books I don’t feel like describing in depth because they were mid/bleh. The first is The Ruins, by Scott Smith. I just learned they made a movie of this? I was thinking that it would actually work better as a movie than a book, but apparently it did terribly in theaters. Quick summary- four young American tourists in Mexico explore Mayan ruins in search of a fellow traveler, but become trapped on a hill covered with man-eating vines. The official summary mentions “a creeping horror” and “the terrifying presence that lurks there,” so I want to explicitly say that the big bad is man-eating vines because I was expecting something a bit deeper based on the blurb. I’d classify this as survivalist/nature/psychological horror and want to note it’s pretty gory. I’d give 3.5/10. It’s fine, but not what I look for out of the horror genre.

The second book is The Cabin at the End of the World (Paul Tremblay). I saw really good reviews for this (btw there’s also a movie, which I haven’t watched but apparently is very different), but it also wasn’t all that interesting to me. I honestly don’t remember the plot very well/don’t feel like I have anything to write about it, so you might be better off looking it up, sorry. I’d give 4.5/10 though.

Next, we have a few books that fit under the “I read these thinking they’d be horror” umbrella. This is my own fault for assuming Silvia Moreno-Garcia’s other books would be similar to Mexican Gothic. I would say I mainly didn’t like these books because I thought they were going to be a different genre, so take my word with a grain of salt. I read Moreno-Garcia’s The Beautiful Ones and The Daughter of Doctor Moreau over the summer. The Beautiful Ones is what I learned is called a “novel of manners,” where the quirky main character must navigate elite society to search for a suitor. The twist is that this takes place in a historical fantasy universe– the main character and her love interest have telepathic powers. I wish that the fantasy elements were more smoothly incorporated; I think this book could’ve been much better as magical realism. Even if the author didn’t want magic to be the main focus but for it to still be included in the story, magical realism would make that possible! I’d give 4/10, but that’s partially because I’m not really interested in the genre; if you like romance or YA fantasy with a twist, this might be fun, but I unfortunately do not!

I somehow made the same mistake with The Daughter of Doctor Moreau. Okay, actually this one might’ve been a result of requesting it on Libby months before, then forgetting what it was by the time I got the book. This one I liked a bit better because the story had more interesting political meaning and is sci-fi/historical fiction, but it still wasn’t 100% for me. It’s inspired by H.G. Wells’ The Island of Doctor Moreau, which I haven’t read, so I can’t comment on this as an adaptation. It takes place at a hacienda in 19th century Yucatan, Mexico, where Dr. Moreau experiments making human/animal hybrids and cares for his sickly daughter, Carlota; beyond their estate, a Mayan rebellion is mounting. The plot kicks off as the Moreau’s resources dwindle, and they hope to resolve their financial troubles with a union between Carlota and their patron’s son…but, of course, things are not what they seem at the hacienda. I enjoyed reading the book, mainly for the commentary on connections between colonialism and patriarchy, and was definitely invested in the story, but I think it just wasn't my taste– all in all, though, 6/10.

One more book in this category, but this one’s not actually my fault. This one actually mentions Mexican Gothic in the description just to fuck with me I guess. Where the Ivy Dares to Grow (Marielle Thompson) does indeed intentionally use gothic tropes and subverts them, which I guess is cool, if you don’t carry a sense of betrayal about getting gothic lit baited :/ Saoirse travels with her fiance to his family’s ancestral manor as his mother reaches the end of her life, but his parents have nothing but contempt for Saoirse. Plus, the passion has long since cooled between her and her fiance, especially as he has grown exasperated with her mental illness that causes her to disconnect from reality. Though the manor seems unwelcoming at first, she eventually grows attuned to its idiosyncrasies, and begins to slip back in time to meet her fiance’s charming ancestor. While I found a lot of this book frustrating (not just because of the genre betrayal…), I did like the incorporation of a protagonist with a dissociative disorder (specifically, Depersonalization-Derealization Disorder) into a fantasy genre. I think many times with fantasy, characters will question their sanity, only to be reassured with the realization of the truth of their magical reality. Here, the fantasy setting doesn’t negate Saoirse's struggle with mental illness, or vice versa. I think the conclusion was well done in this vein, and it increased my perception of the whole book. Despite my bitterness. 5/10.

Before we leave the horror genre, I want to mention 3 books I read during my ghost fixation this spring, which don’t 100% fit as horror, but y'know, ghosts. I read Beloved (Toni Morrison) for the first time ever! There’s a million things online/in literature about Beloved, it’s a classic, nothing unique I can say, other than it’s so so incredible and who am I to give it a rating. My class read The Turn of the Screw (Henry James), which is the 1898 novella that “Haunting of Bly Manor” is based on (once again, Mike Flanagan is out here making wild adaptations…). We discussed it through a queer theory lens, and I recommend reading it with attention to sexuality and innocence, and how interrogating these things can be deeply violating.

I read an excerpt of David Hoon Kim’s Paris Is a Party, Paris Is a Ghost for that same class, and I liked it so much that I read the whole book. Fun fact- half of the title alludes to the poem “Ghost Q&A” by Anne Carson, which I actually used in a web weaving post (here’s the relevant line: “A: have you been to Paris; Q: no; A: Paris is a ghost; Q: no it’s not”). It plays with nonlinear time, since ghosts classically disrupt the progression of time and the definition of a “present;” us trc folks are quite familiar with that… The book follows (in the most ghostly use of the word) Henrik, a Japanese adoptee raised by Danish parents, an expat living in Paris. To top off the layers of identity and belonging, Henrik begins working for a blind physicist (i.e., someone who can’t see and question his ethnic background) as a translator between English and French, neither of which is his first language. The book is divided into three parts across Henrik’s life; the first centers around the implications of his girlfriend’s hikikomori. The third part focuses on Henrik later in adulthood, which I personally found less engaging than the other two (which I REALLY liked), but that may just be me and my interests as a young person, and that was my only issue with the book. I’d say this book is for fans of nonlinear storytelling, ghosts (of course), interrogation of identity, language and the art of translation, ambiguity, and weird shit. 8.5/10. Also I have a pdf of the first chapter (from when I read it for class), so DM me if you want to read a sample.

Finally, we are done with horror (or are we? More on that later).

Next is a category I call “YA/YA adjacent/adult fantasy/gave me YA vibes sorry I know this is a controversial classification but that’s how I think of it.”

I’ve already made two petty posts about the two V.E. Schwab books I read this year , The Fragile Threads of Power and The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue (here’s one post, can’t find the other now). They were…fine. First, Fragile Threads– it’s a spinoff series (?) from A Darker Shade of Magic, which I read a while ago and liked but forgot the details, so I think I’m a pretty good objective reviewer here. This new book takes place seven years after the original series and follows the original main characters and a few new ones. I think it was a good choice to have this fairly hefty time skip. The original characters are now in their late 20s/early 30s, which is unusual in the genre (or often post-time skip, the characters’ issues will be suddenly all solved and they’re all comfortably settled into adult life and domesticity). On the other hand, the new main characters are both tween girls, which felt like a strange choice and made everything feel kinda disconnected. I would’ve liked to spend more time with the new characters; the older set had pretty disproportionate screen time (perhaps Schwab felt readers who are big fans of ADSOM would be unhappy otherwise?). The major plot beats felt really rushed and unearned (especially the resolution of one of the major conflicts offscreen…if you’ve read it you know what I mean). When the next books in this new series come out, I’ll check them out, but I’m not that invested. 4/10. Regarding Addie LaRue, yea it was mid and I don’t feel like delving into it. readwithcindy has a video about the whiteness of the book and books like it, which is worth checking out. Also 4/10. I still don’t believe that every person in the world would feel compelled to COMMENT ON ADDIE’S FUCKING FRECKLES WHAT IS SO SPECIAL ABOUT HAVING SEVEN FRECKLES I DON’T GET IT??????? Anyway.

As per many tumblr recommendations, I read When the Angels Left the Old Country (Sacha Lamb). It’s a queer Jewish immigrant story that follows an angel and demon who are chavrusas (Talmudic study partners); they leave their shtetl for America to find and help a girl from their village. Along the way and through their time in America, they explore things like free will, gender, names and identity, labor justice, and fucking up rich people. I felt like this was a good historical fantasy, and I’m always up for Jewish fantasy! I’m not super into the angel and/or demon thing I know tumblr people like, so fans of those tumblr posts that are like “an angel is actually high tension wires” would probably like this. 6.5/10 - not 100% my taste, but definitely a fun read and I can’t believe this is the only really Jewish book I read this year. Someone tell me about more Jewish books please.

There’s a couple other books I read in this category, but I don’t feel strongly about commenting on them (and we definitely don’t need to discuss the fact I read two game of thrones books in like a week for no reason), so let’s move on to my next set, sci-fi/apocalypse-y/dystopia.

I read A Ballad of Snakes and Songbirds early this year. Obviously lots of people have been discussing it recently because of the movie, so all I’ll say is that I was pleasantly surprised. I was nervous it might be another pointless spinoff about a villain’s backstory (and trying to justify their actions), but this is definitely not that. This book had shit to say, and it was really well done. 8.5/10.

I want to start the rest of this category with a book I didn’t like before getting into books in this genre that I felt worked so much better, at least for me. My brother sent me a paragraph-long text with a glowing review of Project Hail Mary (Andy Weir). He’s not a big texter, so I figured I had to check it out- I joined the long long waiting list for the book. And, I couldn’t get through it. I really tried, but everything about it annoyed me so much, despite the fact I had liked The Martian which is a fairly similar style. First, the narrator exemplifies the worst of scientist characters; while reading this book, I posted several times to complain about this problem. If you haven’t seen my many personal posts about my life, I currently work in a microbiology lab and ultimately want to become a research scientist. I regularly interact with truly incredible scientists, people I aspire to be like one day. But if I asked my supervisor to calculate a star’s orbit in her head, I think she might slap me. I really don’t think you can write a realistic scientist who is an expert in every subject, and the weirdly humble and immature attitude of the book’s narrator pissed me off more because of this. The fact he claims to be a microbiologist but seems to do everything but microbiology is beyond the point…It would be much more interesting to me to have the narrator find himself so out of his depth in a time of crisis and/or when alone in space. Of course, this would require some more creativity to move the plot forward, but that could be really cool! My other major reason for not finishing was the actual apocalyptic conflict. This was more a personal thing for me than a book problem; the conflict is a bit convoluted, but not bad in itself. Honestly, reading about an all-consuming response to a planetary crisis was just overwhelming and some aspects of their stopgap solutions made me physically nauseous (I don’t want to give specific spoilers but uh. I think the idea of what happens with the Sahara and Antarctica were what actually made me finally stop reading). On the other hand, it made me so sad to think about a reality where such a crisis warrants the appropriate response. We have a real planetary threat on our hands, and we can’t even mobilize the bare minimum measures because of the same capitalist and exploitative motivations that have driven climate change this whole time. This second unrealistic aspect gave me a good dose of climate doom. I can’t rate the book because I didn’t finish, but I’d be really interested to hear your thoughts on this one, since I don’t understand why it has been so praised.

I do think it’s possible to more realistically handle the idea of proportionate crisis response and normalcy/lack thereof in an apocalypse situation. We have all been living through a pandemic and have all personally experienced how quickly the definition of “life as normal” can change, as well as seen our world’s failure to raise a just and appropriate response when profit is in the picture. I’ve felt pretty sensitive to how fiction handles these topics, and I have a few broad categories for pandemic media: pre-COVID and eerily accurate or pre-COVID and absolutely inaccurate; post-COVID and insensitive (it gives the audience a little elbow, like “hey we all remember THAT right, look, it’s been incorporated into this story lol!”) or post-COVID and tastefully incorporates some interesting insight or post-COVID and ignores the whole thing (though it’s a different question whether you can create something fully new without incorporating lived experience even subconsciously) (as another note, I want to add that before 2020, I was really into the science history of pandemics, but haven’t done much reading on that front since) (also, when I say post-COVID, I mean post-outbreak. COVID rates are soaring right now, let’s stop ignoring this. While we’re in a parenthetical, please get the new vaccine if it is accessible to you).

Both Station Eleven (Emily St. John Mandel) and Severance (Ling Ma) were indeed published prior to 2019, and so they fit into category #1. Reading them this year actually felt really valuable and almost cathartic, rather than anxiety-inducing. Station Eleven loosely follows several people who are connected by their involvement in a production of King Lear immediately before the outbreak of a deadly flu. The fairly extensive glimpses into their lives prior to and after the outbreak round out really nicely. I like that we see such a range of ages of characters. One of the main characters was a young child when the flu started, and most of her screen time takes place twenty years after; only a small fraction of her life took place in what the older characters view as “normal” times. So what does that mean for people like her (or those born after the outbreak)? Should she be mourning something she experienced for just a few years? Her whole life has taken place during a period of apparent transition, but what is the world transitioning to? When does a transition end? After twenty years, there’s a sense of peace and predictivity to her reality- isn’t that a sort of normalcy? I also really liked the way all the characters were loosely connected to one another; there are lots of books with such setups, but I like that this connection doesn’t entail some great mystery or a climactic meet-up. Connection is just how the world works. 7.5/10; it left me with things to think about, but it was a bit of a slow read for me at some points.

While I read Station Eleven because I saw my lovely mutual posting about it, I read Severance because my coworker posted about it…but what are mutuals if not coworkers. It is similarly made up of pre- and post- outbreak scenes, but it follows only one character, Candace Chen (interesting quote from a New Yorker article about this choice: “...Ma flouts a trope of dystopian fiction, a genre that, with its fixation on the fate of civilization, has a tendency to produce protagonists meant to stand in for society at large. Rather than an Average Joe, Ma gives us a Specific Chen, conjuring an experience of the apocalypse through the lens of someone whose variegated identity is not an exotic distraction but part of the novel’s architecture”). These scenes of the past are less strictly cohesive flashbacks, and more snippets of Candace’s dispassionate existence. When the epidemic breaks out, she keeps working her corporate job in bible manufacturing in New York City, even as her superiors and coworkers leave or fall ill, even as the city’s infrastructure crumbles and she moves into her office, until she eventually is rescued by a band of survivors. Candace is a cog in a machine, otherwise adrift and lonely in late-stage capitalism. The Shen Fever isn’t a disease where the victims fall ill and die, leaving the sight of the narrative; the fevered linger, acting out loops of their daily/familiar routines until they finally wear themselves ragged and die. So, there definitely is more cutting, explicit criticism of consumerism and capitalist society in Severance than Station Eleven. It’s also more psychological (and ambiguous). While Station Eleven gave me a sense of peace and calm occasionally, I never felt that here, where the non-fictional aspects of life under late-stage capitalism is inseparable from the book’s fictional dystopian elements (perhaps the difference in tone between the two books is because Station Eleven is about connection, and Severance’s narrator exemplifies the disconnection wrought by capitalism). There’s not really a sense of urgency or stress, though. In my opinion, that’s because (as many of us have experienced) when crisis is happening all the time, people become exhausted and adjust their idea of normalcy to some level of tragedy. Between the symptoms of the fever and Candace’s commitment to work a pointless job through a pandemic, this book really did eerily reflect the world’s insistence on “life as normal” during the beginning of COVID. There is so much more to talk about with Severance (I was mainly focusing on how it compares in regard to a sense of normalcy in crisis, but there’s SO much interesting stuff in it- I didn’t mention at all, for example, the role of immigration), and I highly recommend checking it out if you don’t mind an uncomfortably realistic sense of impending capitalistic doom! 9/10.

These three apocalypse books all used scenes set before, during, and after the onset of a crisis, so it’s interesting to me that they have such different relationships with normalcy. I’d be super intrigued to hear what y’all think about these books (or other similar ones) and their very different treatment of the same themes.

Sorry for the mini book report there. It’s time for me to talk about one last sci-fi book, which was actually one of my top books of the year- Annihilation (Jeff VanderMeer). I read this after I finished my last finals of my university career, and I finally had some time to myself. It was a strange and liminal sort of period for me, existing in this space for two weeks where I was just anticipating graduation and my move to a new city, a looming end to life as I had known it the last 4 years. I spent several evenings sitting on the quad, enjoying the nice May weather, and barely noticing as the sun set and it grew dark around me. I really expected nothing from Annihilation and couldn’t believe how much I loved it. For one, it gives me hope that scientist characters don’t have to be awful (unlike Project Hail Mary’s protagonist, the narrator here sticks within her field and even explicitly mentions being recently refreshed on the scientific topics relevant to the story). I don’t know what genre you would call this– it’s like 60% horror 40% sci-fi (but I couldn’t bear to add another book in the horror section, that’s why it’s in here, and also I wanted another jab at Project Hail Mary’s protagonist); it’s cosmic horror, where the incomprehensible thing is biology and the strange inhuman beauty of nature. The narrator is simply called The Biologist, a woman who is absolutely fascinated about the natural world; she’d be satisfied staring into a puddle in a parking lot for hours. I love her. She joins a mission, made up of women also referred to simply by their fields, to learn more about the mysterious environmental disaster zone called Area X. The movie’s description calls this a “mysterious zone where the laws of nature don’t apply,” but I think the Biologist would say the exact opposite. The story, told through her field journal, records the team’s investigation into Area X and the terribly strange and beautiful things she encounters there; meanwhile, she reluctantly reveals her not-so-scientifically-objective motives for signing up for this doomed expedition. You’ve probably heard of the movie and/or seen gifs of its beautiful visuals; this is one of the cases where the movie is pretty good (and Oscar Isaac is there), but it’s really a completely different piece of media than the book- I recommend reading the book as a separate entity than the movie. This one is a 9.5/10! Once I reread and better understand the conclusion, I’d probably add that 0.5 points back. Has anyone read anything similar to Annihilation they recommend? I need more of a funky scientist interacting with surreal natural horror.

Ok, one last book that I would consider miscellaneous to my categories here, but theoretically could be scifi?

I read The Archive of Alternate Endings (Lindsey Drager) after seeing a quote from it in a tumblr post. In fact, you might’ve seen the post I recently made with a different excerpt from it. I finished it just before the new year so that I could fit it in here and give it the honorary place of the last book :) Archive combines a lot of things I know y’all like: the circularity of time, folktales, web weaving, siblings, tragedy, nautilus shells, etc. Since we’re at the end of this post, I’ll give a better go of describing an experimental book: a natural history of storytelling, as traced through the tale of “Hansel and Gretel” and Halley’s comet. Not sure if that makes sense, but essentially, Archive reveals the human connections at each 74 year interval of the comet’s orbit, from 1378 to 2365, through revisiting the meaning of “Hansel and Gretel” to different pairs of siblings. Compared to other works that attempt to do the grand connections across time and space thing, Archive does this very well, probably because this structure is not an afterthought and it’s not a tool to build anticipation of the characters meeting- it’s the thesis statement. One thing I did have trouble with was the incorporation of real historical figures into this piece, especially considering its structure. I was able to more easily digest some of the historical liberties taken than others; I didn’t mind the historical figures and original nameless characters separately, but it was strange to see Ruth Coker Burks (though she’s not named explicitly) interact with a pair of fictional siblings. 8/10. Other than that issue, I think this book worked well and was a great last read for 2023!

I said that was the last book, right? Sorry.

I realized I’ve never posted here about one of my favorite books, and I want to use this as the chance to talk about it, if anyone’s still reading at this point.

I read A Tale for the Time Being (Ruth Ozeki) in the spring of 2022. I learned about this book because someone had left it in a classroom I was teaching in, and I thought the title was great, so I took a picture of the cover and eventually searched for it at the library. How’s that for fate? Here’s a brief summary. A novelist with writer’s block finds a journal that has washed ashore. Alongside the novelist’s annotations, we read the words of Nao, a Japanese teenager. Nao has decided to kill herself, but first she wants to do something that’ll matter: write about the incredible life of her great-grandmother, a hundred year old Buddhist nun. Despite her best attempts to focus on her grandmother, Nao ends up using the journal as a diary, documenting the events of her own life that have led her to plan a suicide. While Nao’s life and her intentions are obviously extremely bleak, she writes with a delightfully bright and peppy voice that makes her journal both a pleasure to read and that much more devastating, as we quickly begin to care deeply for Nao. The novelist’s parts of the book are objectively weaker than Nao’s, but her role as helplessly studying the journal years in the future is definitely necessary for the book to work (plus she’s the framing device). I do want to note content warnings for Tale; suicide, of course, but also I was surprised by brutality of Nao’s bullying (I’d loosely define some of it as torture) and the escalation of events toward the end. So adding some less obvious CWs in case people wanna check it out: graphic depictions of bullying; sexual assault; racist fetishization of Japanese women; child neglect; and lots of discussion of suicide. Beyond that, I’d add that this book is just absolutely packed full of everything, which can make it seem occasionally a bit all over the place, but it’s all connected, so it’s worth it to try to follow the various threads. From reviews I see online, some people LOVE this book, others hate it, so it might be an acquired taste…but personally, I recall it as one of the best books I’ve read and am going to take this as motivation to finally reread it.

Right, now we are done. So what are the takeaways of this ridiculously long post ? Here are few bits of wisdom I learned from my 2023 reading: You have got to read the originals that adaptations are based on because Mike Flanagan and co will fuck around with the source material, but also because knowledge of the source material can add a lot to your understanding of an adaptation you enjoy (and there’s usually a reason someone found them worthwhile of adaptation). Screwing with time can work incredibly well in any genre, but it will come off as cheap if the author doesn’t get the implications of non-linear time and just wants an excuse for excessive flashbacks. There is good pandemic fiction out there, you just have to avoid cringey COVID-derivative material. Stop making your scientist characters be experts in everything, and start making them obsessed weirdos. And take better notes than a string of adjectives if you want to write in-depth book reviews.

Thanks for bearing with me through this post! Let me know what you think! Did you read these books? Agree with me or disagree with every word? Do you have any recommendations for me? Read something good with a ghost in it? Or do you want to share books from this year you hated? And should I channel my inner booktuber and do more posts like this?

Happy New Year!

Julia

#hi guys! i said this was long right? because its really long #i was possessed by the spirit of insanity and book blogger #this was one of the few times where me taking forever to finish something wasnt because gave up. it was because i wrote so much

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