Spotlight Read: Tales from the Loop - Simon Stålenhag

Oh hey, remember me? I used to post once a week or so? No? Well, welcome anyway. I hope you stay a while.

Once in a while, a book comes along where the reader says "this was made for me". That's how I feel about Tales from the Loop. Part illustration, part alternative sci-fi centered history, Stålenhag weaves together a rich, detailed tale about a young boy growing up in the 80's in Sweden during a time of futuristic robotic invention.

*click the pictures for a zoomed in view*

The beautifully bound book starts off describing a massive military based physics experiment called The Loop Project. Its history dates back to WWII, when nuclear power became a reality. The author presents the story as fact, citing documents and personal anecdotes in great detail. Every illustration speaks for itself, the text being a delightful hint of context.

Honestly, I would frame any page in this book. The pictures are stunning and the integration of machine and man is so seamless, the reader really does feel that they're peering into author's actual memory of his childhood. Some of the stories border the freaky, the macabre, and even the humorous.

Here's something not many people know about me: as a child, I wanted to grow up and be a robot. Not a person with cybernetic enhancements, mind you; an actual wired up robot. What was I thinking? Of course, Saturday mornings spent watching Gundam Wing didn't help, and in fact helped spark (ha) a lifelong love of all things mecha.

This post is super picture-heavy because the half pages of text that accompany many of the illustrations are such a delight that I don't want to ruin it for you. I'm so impressed by Stålenhag's original designs. It's so easy to design robots and machines that simply look like things that already exist, anything from washing machines to big rigs (looking at you, Transformers). But Stålenhag has managed to create creatures and automatons that I don't think I've ever seen before. What's even more intriguing is that he almost managed to invent the science behind how these machines work. Of course, these theoretical principles are just that, theories, but it actual makes sense how they could operate.

Did I mention he also invented creatures as well? Because he totally did. He straight up invented cybernetic bison boars. Oh, and there's also dinosaurs. Yep. But still, it's all cohesive and somehow manages to make sense. There's also something to be said about a book that makes you feel nostalgic for a time that never really existed.

I'll leave you with what's probably my favorite illustration in the entire book. I absolutely love the potentially prophetic idea of technology failing and nature returning back to it's roots. Literally. We're on the brink of the most influential and complex creations of all humankind and yet without us, without all our wonders of the modern world, the planet would simply go back to what's its always been. Nature was here before us, it will be here after us. But before that, I hope we get to see plenty more of Stålenhag's incredible work. 

Revisited Read: Stardust by Neil Gaiman

“A philosopher once asked, "Are we human because we gaze at the stars, or do we gaze at them because we are human?" Pointless, really..."Do the stars gaze back?" Now, that's a question.” 

Everyone that knows me knows that I'm a massive Neil Gaiman fan. That's putting it lightly. I had the absolute joy of seeing his talk in Seattle in April and it felt like it was one of those life affirming moments one always dreams about. I took my best friend along with me, who has never read anything of his before (but I try not to hold it against her) and even she was falling in love with his mastery of words.

I know I said I'd be focusing on books I've never read before, but this was a special circumstance, I swear. Stardust was one of my favorite books in college, but I'd never listened to the audiobook before. I currently have a 40 minute commute each way to work five days a week. While I of course enjoy my karaoke sessions, on occasion I need something to focus my mind to ready myself for the day. Audiobooks are an excellent way to pass the time and squeeze in a quality literary break.

Romantic stories do not do much for me. I'm not what I would consider a romantic at heart, albeit love is something that I absolutely cherish. Stardust has a beautifully lyrical combination of love, adventure, and self discovery. Gaiman himself in the introduction described the story as a "fairy tale for adults" and I couldn't agree more. The story is so delightfully whimsical that there's something for everyone, and all readers will be left grinning like a fool from at least one moment in the pages. There's just something so uniquely special about the artful prose Gaiman spins, meticulously weaving together phrases and characters, creating a completely immersive tale. I don't want to delve too deeply into the plot, as that is not the point with this post. This is simply a revisitation to an old friend in a new form, something that I think we should all do from time to time.

“Every lover is, in his heart, a madman, and, in his head, a minstrel.” 

Hearing Mr. Gaiman read his own work is something I find absolutely fascinating. It is without shame I admit that I might be at least 85% in love with Mr. Gaiman's voice as much as I am with his writing, but it adds an entirely different element to the stories to hear just how much he loves what he does. Each character has a distinct personality that comes through in the voice he chooses and it's rather funny to picture him sitting in a recording booth. But, that's probably just my imagination running off as usual. I think the thing that resonates so deeply with me from this story is that it is about, and for, dreamers. It's for the people who fall in love, do reckless things in the name of it, live their own lives, tell their own tales. Even if we don't live in a typical fairy tale, life itself is magical. Look up at the stars and try to argue that every twinkle, every gleam it just that. There's an awful big world out there. We are all adventurers at heart.

"You have to believe, otherwise it will never happen."

Spotlight Read: The Book of Speculation - Erika Swyler

“Once you’ve held a book and really loved it, you forever remember the feel of it, its specific weight, the way it sits in your hand.” 

Every once in a while, I'll come across a book, get a few chapters into it, and realize that this was exactly the book that I was meant to read in the time I chose to pick it up. This is one of those books. Erika Swyler crafts her words so precisely, so delicately, it feels as though she is caring after a centuries-old tome, much like that of her protagonist.

The only reason I picked this up was when I asked a coworker about magical realism titles. As a library worker, I have to say I'm particular about the way certain library protocols are handled. Granted, I'm part of a larger library system spanning two counties, but still. There's not a lot of glorious spare time to go on genealogical goose chases. Which is why I'm glad certain plot points happened as they did. Like I've said before, my aim is to keep this blog spoiler free, so I am going to try my hardest not to get into the particulars.

I'm almost positive I was a fortune teller in a past life. 

Another thing I'm protective of is weird arcane things, like tarot. If someone dramatically flips over the Death card as lightning strikes, I'm going to pull a grumpy face and be all salty for the rest of the story. That is not the case here. Swyler did her research with hidden meanings and symbolism with tarot cards and readings, which I very much appreciate, although . Coupled with the mysterious Slavic woman who interprets the cards, mermaids, and you've got the makings of a classic tale. But that is just the part of the story that takes past in the centuries past. There's a contemporary story, one that surrounds a mysterious book arriving in the mail and a possible family curse. Intrigued yet?

“Something is very wrong. What began as a passing fascination with the book has turned into something darker.”

On the modern day side of the tale, we have Simon. He and his younger sister Enola are orphans and while Simon spends his days filling grant requests and curating the whaling history collection of his library, Enola is off reading tarot cards for a traveling carnival with her cephalopod-inked boyfriend. Simon himself is an interesting character. We don't see many hints into his personality outright, and to some readers he may come across as rather boring. I took a shine to him and his introverted, introspective self. Hmm, an introverted librarian living an a coastal town, why would I relate to that? (Hint: because it's me.) His relationship with his fiery younger sister is incredibly real and Enola is so interesting that I did find myself half-wishing that the book was from her perspective as the coincidental deaths in their family follow the women. But Simon as a protagonist is a quiet one, which adds a low-key energy as he begins to uncover the past and mysteries from his family's history.

“We carry our families like anchors, rooting us in storms, making sure we never drift from where and who we are. We carry our families within us the way we carry our breath underwater, keeping us afloat, keeping us alive.” 

I'm a huge sucker for dysfunctional family stories. While I wouldn't consider my own to be such, we are certainly not without our quirks. One things that makes this book truly special is the complex dynamics between the characters. We see Simon's interactions with his sisters boyfriend, as well as the weighty realization that his baby sibling is, gasp, having sex, something I'm sure no older brother would want to be aware of, my own included. In the sections taking place in the past, we see a much different type of family, one that people are capable of choosing of their own accord. We follow a mute young boy, Amos- a name given to him by the Russian fortune teller, Madam Ritzkova, through the course of his life from abandonment to finding his way into a traveling carnival, where he is adopted as a sideshow spectacle- "The Wild Boy", and further as he enters adulthood, falling in love with a woman whose sudden appearance changes everything for the troupe, setting into motion events that will ripple into the future. Being mute, Amos communicates mostly through the pictures and details hidden in the intricate hand-drawn tarot cards Madame Ritzkova uses in her trade.

One of the many interesting traits of Simon's family is that they are swimmers. Not "doing a few laps at The Y" swimmers; Simon himself can hold his breath upwards of ten minutes at a time, something his mother taught him. There's so much about symbolism and beautiful imagery that I want to get into about what that means for the family and their fates but I just cannot do that without breaking my "no spoilers" clause. If you'd like to go into it further, feel free to message me here or on Goodreads!

Now, the ending of this book doesn't have a huge shock reveal, at least not to me. It felt rather obvious that the direction it was taking was leading to it, but for others this may be a surprise. Others may be disappointed. But I feel that the point of the story follows the idiom "it's the journey that's important, not the destination" and family reminds us that we're more than just ourselves. And love is just as wild, unpredictable, and all encompassing as the ocean's waves.

"Because there are things you do for people you’ve known your whole life. You let them save you, you put them in your books, and you let each other begin again, clean.”