T-Pac Reading Log

Project Hail Mary (2021) by Andy Weir Surprisingly, I don’t read a lot of sci-fi - but I was more than happy to give Project Hail Mary a go on my sister’s recommendation (especially given how much I enjoyed reading Weir’s The Martian for a class in college). And I haven’t found myself quite so hooked on a story in a while. Project Hail Mary follows a middle-school science teacher, Ryland Grace, on a spacefaring suicide-mission to save Earth from the Astrophage, a cosmic microorganism that’s feeding off the Sun. Grace wakes up from a medically induced coma aboard his spaceship in the Tau Ceti solar system, and he battles amnesia while attempting to find out why this system’s star is unharmed by Astrophage (and consequently send his research back to Earth). This setup makes for an interesting time-skipping structure in the narrative, as Grace’s backstory is filled-in bit-by-bit through flashbacks as his amnesia wears-off. Although the most interesting part of the novel by far is his ...

The Odyssey by Homer I’d only ever encountered bits and pieces of the Odyssey sporadically throughout middle school and high school, so it was nice to finally get the whole epic in context. Admittedly, the parts I was already familiar with (like the adventures with the Cyclops, Sirens, and Scylla and Charybdis) were the highlights of the book, while the unfamiliar parts were largely “connective tissue” - but ingesting it all as a cohesive story made the experience novel enough. And with that new lens, two things really struck me.  First is the character of Odysseus. I’d fully expected him to be an "ancient Greek superman” of spotless morals and unparalleled might. But what I got was a surprisingly deceptive and vengeful man who, while still a respectable and powerful figure, has an inclination for elaborate lies and an upsetting lack of mercy. An understandable trait for what is, in essence, a revenge story - but regrettable nonetheless. Second - is just how foreign the ethics an...

  Theo of Golden (2023) by Allen Levi My mom sent me this book because she felt it was particularly moving, and I’d have to agree. In it, Theo is an old Portuguese renaissance-man who takes up somewhat of a “retirement residence” in the quaint, mildly gentrified college town of Golden, Georgia. There, he encounters the work of a prolific local portrait artist on display at a coffeeshop, and makes it his mission to gift each portrait to the source-residents from which each face derives. In this way, he befriends all sorts of people, from veterans to musicians to Golden’s signature homeless cyclist - leaving them all with a piece of art and a heartwarming affirmation of the strength and beauty each portrait reveals in its subject. While Theo of Golden does feel a bit contrived in its overt sentimentality (namely the unconvincingly diverse assembly of “characters from all walks of life”, as well as Theo’s own complete lack of flaws and unchallenged ability to make everyone bare their...

The Fountainhead (1943) by Ayn Rand I may not agree with Ayn Rand’s objectivist philosophy in the sense that it positions man as his own god, but I admire its encouragement of the individual to actualize the greatest extent of their potential. And to do so with uncompromising integrity - a trait wholly personified by The Fountainhead ’s Howard Roark. Roark is an architect with the innate skill to design buildings which seem to exist, not as extensions of nature, but as a self-evident culmination of nature’s beauty. Roark - in his completely steadfast and, for lack of a better term, rigidly autistic devotion to his craft - stands against the worldly aspects of his field. Worldly aspects that Rand exhibits in Roark’s peer and former schoolmate, Peter Keating. While Roark is willing to fall into poverty and shame, refusing any commissions that undermine the sanctity of his work and withstanding misplaced public ire against it, Keating is willing to steal credit, blackmail, and manipulate...

Little Women (1868) by Louisa May Alcott Lately, the turbulence of the world has been getting to me. So I really needed something like Little Women to brighten my perspective. Louisa May Alcott’s two-part story follows the lives of four sisters in Civil War era New England, as they grow from adolescents to young adults. Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy's experiences (victories and trials alike) imbue them (and by extent, the reader) with valuable life lessons. For the most part, each chapter functions as a sort-of parable, where the girls learn how to appreciate their blessings, mind their tempers, behave virtuously, and realize the benefits of simple, honest work. It may sound childish, but many of these lessons come from coping with war, death, and other tragedies. I’d be remiss not to mention Little Women’s unfortunate upholding of the “domestic role of women” in many cases, but the heart of its message still applies in our more progressive age. The last chapter even reflects on the com...

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (1886) by Robert Louis Stevenson I wasn’t aware that Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde was a novella, or even that it was written by Robert Louis Stevenson. But I saw it in my library and thought it would be a perfect Halloween read. Stevenson was known to write many of his stories from vivid dreams, and draw from his traumatic childhood fear of hell and damnation. Jekyll and Hyde is a telling example of this, with its fixation on morality and distanced storytelling style. Most of the plot is revealed at a degree of removal through Mr. Utterson, a lawyer and friend to Jekyll. And beyond that - many events are described by witness accounts rather than directly, lending to the dreamlike abstraction of the story. I appreciate how this also has the effect of piecing together the narrative, slowly through vague details, until the final chapter’s explicit “big reveal” in Jekyll’s own letter to Utterson. I found this “big reveal” much more disturbing than I ...

  The Prince (1532) by Niccolo Machiavelli  Machiavelli’s The Prince is essentially an outline of “best-practices” for a monarch to maintain their power, with supporting examples in historical and contemporary (European, mostly) rule. This may sound fairly harmless on the surface, but this book is infamous for its many tyrannical recommendations as far as “successful” reign is concerned. To be fair, Machiavelli was very much a product of his environment, in which the pragmatic Florentine government didn’t necessarily shy away from brutality for the sake of self-preservation. And historians debate whether Machiavelli even subscribed to his own beliefs in The Prince, considering his contrasting writings on republics which praised virtue and humanity. I think what it boils down to, is that Machiavelli is a realist in the most brutally honest way. And while I don’t respect The Prince’s “outcome over ethics” principles, I respect that the book doesn’t try to hide the true nature o...