Arborescence

Image credit: Hachette Australia

A reading experience can be many things. It can be immersive, disruptive, comforting, harrowing, scary, exhilarating, it can be anything and everything all at once sometimes. While we are tempted to measure the brilliance of a book by how positive we find the reading experience that it provides, that’s not always the best way to go about it. Sometimes we need to consider that the books that disturb and unsettle us are just as brilliant as the ones that excite and uplift us. Having been late on the last book for bookclub, this week I have gone to the other extreme and finished the book with almost a month to spare! It’s a cliché to gush that the brilliant thing about bookclubs is that they encourage you to read books that you ordinarily wouldn’t, but it’s one hundred per cent the case. A complete departure from the hilarious detective-noir farce that was The Empress Murders, this week’s read had me skeptical, curious, enthralled, unsettled, and dispirited. This week I’m talking about Rhett Davis’ Arborescence.

Bren works for a company that he doesn’t understand the point of with colleagues whom he has never met. His partner Caelyn cycles through jobs looking for something, though she’s not sure what. One day the couple discover a group of people in a nearby forest who believe that if they stand still for long enough, they will eventually take root and become trees. While Bren dismisses the idea as a weird cult ideology, Caelyn becomes fascinated by it. She goes back to university and writes articles about it and soon the two realise that the idea is spreading. People are going missing and trees are appearing in places where they weren’t before. Could arborescence really be true? As the world becomes greener and cities and technology stagger, Caelyn sees nothing to fear but Bren is not so sure.

Arborescence begins as a wholesome, almost hippy-dippy exploration about the bizarre and dysfunctional love triangle that is the human-technology-nature relationship. It then begins to slowly and eerily turn towards the avenue of thriller territory before suddenly taking a hard turn into the realm of dystopia. It’s a hugely provocative book, inspiring an absolute tirade of thought processes regarding the state of the world, the toxicity of humanity, what the human condition truly means and how it affects everything it around it, as well as social, economical, and natural evolution.

Davis writes in a structurally fragmented way to depict the erraticism of human thought processes while at the same time using prose that is rich, poetic, slow-moving, and even soothing. The disjointed paragraphs mixed with this soothing, measured language has an unsettling effect as it both startles and lulls the reader, diverting their attention away from the creeping doom that inches ever closer. This way, when the horror of the story does finally settle in, it’s truly upsetting enough to inspire stomach drops, gooseflesh, and shivers.

While I spent a fair potion of this book being captivated and then horrified, the remainder was spent feeling depressed as Davis really writes about two dystopias, one replacing the other. When the book starts in what I assume is the modern day, AI or ‘alternative intelligences’ are prevalent, running entire companies, issuing orders and workloads, and even hiring human actors as representatives when face-to-face interviews are required. It’s eerily science fiction without really being in that hyper-futuristic setting and the interactions between human and technology are so nonchalantly depicted that the strangeness of it doesn’t quite register until you realise that the ‘boss’ sitting across from Bren in the café is actually a man working for a robot. This technological dystopia that the book begins in establishes the shift in human relationships with one another, showing a lack of vibrance, energy, or spark. Perhaps I interpreted this on a more personal level as I’ve recently had to adjust to working remotely with all colleagues being online: isolation can really be a downer. By the time the natural dystopia takes root, Davis has raised so many questions about the changing flavour of human relationships that it’s hard to find the will to stand up.

Image credit: Curtis Brown

I think if I read this book again, it will be some years down the track, but I do think that it was brilliant! There is so much going on and being explored narratively, structurally, and socially. It really makes the mind whirl with theories, questions, anxieties, and hope. And while I haven’t come away from a read so depressed since The Great Gatsby, Davis does leave readers on a hopeful note. It’s certainly not a comfy, cosy read, but I think I would recommend Arborescence if you’re out for a challenge, a stimulant, or an emotional shakeup.

Author: Rhett Davis, 2025

Published: Hachette Australia, 2025

The Lord of the Flies

Image credit: Wheelers Books

Having finally finished my run of modern fantasy with the Artemis Fowl series, I felt that a complete 180 degree shift was required in my choice of book this week, and so I jumped down the tropical, dystopian rabbit-hole with a classic that apparently everyone –except me- has read because they studied it in school. Such a classic, it’s even been immortalised by The Simpsons, I’m talking about William Golding’s The Lord of the Flies.

The story takes place in England during the Second World War and chronicles the horrifying adventures of a group of schoolboys whose plane is shot down and crashes on a deserted tropical island. At first the boys retain their social dignity and elect a level-headed leader, Ralph, but soon a rift forms between Ralph and the charismatic hunter, Jack, who rebels and forms his own tribe of savages. Soon the island is in complete chaos as the boys become progressively terrified of their situation and convinced that there’s a terrible beast on the island, and their world collapses as rules and morals get replaced with violence and savagery.

I can understand why this has been a schoolroom staple, seemingly for forever. It’s a narrative analyst’s dream featuring everything from the dichotomy between good and evil, exploration into the conflicting sides of human nature, and the fun/frustration of the unreliable narrator.

In terms of genre, The Lord of the Flies sits in a circle of its own, but there are many aspects of it that remind us of the horror genre, in particular the zombie film. The breakdown of society is the biggest example of this, with social and moral structure and cooperation becoming completely corrupted and decayed away by fear and desperation. However, where the real shock value comes into play is the fact that the fear (the real beast on the island) is not necessarily what causes the great divide. Indeed with the characters being a bunch of children and pre-pubescent boys, the central rift between Ralph and Jack comes from childish jealousy. While Ralph gets elected fair and square, his earnestness and desperation to convey the seriousness of their situation quickly gets distasteful and Jack swoops in with promises of playing games of hunting, as thought they were the Lost Boys in Peter Pan. Jack’s desire for leadership and his charisma gain him a tribe, but the combination of fear and frenzy soon turns the ‘game’ deadly.

Despite the fact that the book is written in the third person with an omniscient narrator, it still plays delicately with that very Gothic horror theme of the unreliable narrator, as the readers are given no real insight into how long the boys are on the island, therefore no real idea as to how long it takes for the moral and social decay to take place. For all we know, all of this could have only happened within a matter of days!

Image credit: Wikipedia

And what makes this all the more fascinating (and horrifying) is that it was inspired by Golding’s own experiences during WWII, when he actually witnessed isolated savagery amongst desperate men unbound by the rules of civilised society. The quest to immediately gratify desires without forethought is heavily explored in this book and, being published at a time when there was much public concern about the destructive nature of humans, its horror and popularity soared.

Lord of the Flies is definitely one of the most provocative books that I have read. It’s raw and terrifying and I absolutely adored it! It’s a true classic of literature.

Author: William Golding, 1954

Published: Faber & Faber (London)

Longevity: The book was adapted into a film in 1963, directed by Peter Brooks. Golding won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1983.

Fahrenheit 451

Image credit: Amazon UK

There’s an unrelenting –albeit morbid- fascination with the dystopian novel. A common thread that they run along is that they seem actually quite boring and simple on the surface, but as you probe deeper you discover that they are so much more. Studies in humanity, identity, and the inner workings of their central characters dystopian novels are something to be thankful for even if you need to be in the right mood for them.

Fahrenheit 451 tells the short but poignant story of Guy Montag, a fireman who’s job is to start fires and burn up the cause of all unhappiness: the printed book. Guy lives with his wife during the day and sets fires during the night and he never questions the routine or dullness of his life. That is until he meets an observant teenager named Clarisse. Awakened from his stupor by Clarisse’s observations of his unhappiness, Guy begins hiding books in his home in the hope that he may be able to recover his feelings through them. But soon Guy’s unquenchable need for answers begins to take over and his hidden books have him running for his life.

Winner of the 2007 Pulitzer Prize Special Citation and recently adapted into a feature film by HBO, Fahrenheit 451 is an eerily prophetic novel that seems to just gain more and more relevance. The post-literate world of Montag and his City is alien, but at the same time strangely familiar: overrun with technology, television, and a depleted sense of sociality. As his wife binge-watches programs on three wall-sized TVs the protagonist awakens to the state of the world and laments the loss of a bygone era where people thought and felt for themselves. Similar to Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale, this book chronicles the seemingly mundane actions of the protagonist and leads the reader on a wondrous trail of suspense, which culminates in held breathe beyond the final page. The true beauty of the dystopian genre is illustrated in the story’s lack of traditional closure, which leaves the door open to hope.

Image credit: Tales of Mystery and Imagination

Guy Montag as a protagonist is not necessarily exciting, rather he works as a vessel for exciting thoughts and concepts to pass through and filter out into the world. A man acting on impulses, but still in a state of semi-senselessness that comes for being a member of the repressed majority –oh the delicious irony- he sort of blunders through the novel thick-headed with sleep and only begins properly waking up at the end.

While it seems that not a lot happens in Fahrenheit 451 there’s enough to unnerve, startle, and even terrify the reader and as dystopias go it’s not 1984, but it could be a stone’s throw away from there we are now…

Fahrenheit 451 was written by Ray Bradbury in 1953 and first published by Rupert Hart-Davis Ltd in 1954.

The Handmaid's Tale

I have heard that when Trump was elected Lord Mayor of Power and Dictator of Social Media (or just the US) sales for Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale and George Orwell’s 1984 skyrocketed! Apparently everyone’s turning to the great authors for tips as to how to survive the impending ‘Trumpocapylse’ that will lead society into a state of nightmarish dystopia. Well, everyone’s turning to the right people. 

The Handmaid’s Tale is a wonderful depiction of a patriarchal dystopia where women are dried up wives, whores, domestics, or child-carrying vessels (known as Handmaids). It tells the story of Offred, a Handmaid living in this society and grappling with memories of her life before. As Offred spends her days doing her daily duties, always under the threat of exile or death if she deviates, drama blooms as she develops a forbidden relationship with her Commander as well as the household servant, Nick. Both men have the power to drastically change Offred’s life, maybe even help to reunite her with her husband and daughter whom she has not seen or heard from in years. 

On the surface, it seems that not much actually happens in The Handmaid’s Tale in terms of action or thrills. The irrepressible power of the book comes from Atwood’s marvellous ability to depict in great depth and detail such a world and such a character that envelopes the reader immediately and keeps them completely engulfed within the story right to the very last page. 

Told in the first person, it’s an engaging stream-of-consciousness type of story that not only creates images and feelings a dystopian society (very dystopian for women anyway), but really gets you into the head of this character and very subtly highlights this incredible struggle that she’s going though into trying to live ‘happily’ by being quiet and compliant, but on the inside being completely overwhelmed by hope that something will brighten; she’ll find her long-lost best friend or her husband will return and whisk her away to be a family again. 

But perhaps the most interesting thing about The Handmaid’s Tale is the time in which it’s set. Not a lot of concrete clues are away given away as to how far into the future this is set (if it be the future at all) because the Republic of Gilead is so isolated. Offred is one of many characters who can remember what life was like before, the tone of the book as well as some of the dialogue is quite modern, and there are many references that indicate that this sudden dystopia could be right around the corner (obviously that’s the feeling of a number of people at the moment). 

I think this is where the true brilliance of the book lies and indeed, you read it voraciously; practically inhale it, dying to find out where we are in space and time and are things too far gone for Offred to continue hoping. 

Margaret Atwood is an incredibly powerful writer and The Handmaid’s Tale is an incredibly powerful read that I think everyone should engage in. It may not have the action of a fantasy novel or the numbing anxiety of a good thriller or horror, but it creates an experience of a different kind and I think some of the thrills and fears that come out of it are created by its exploration of themes and social attitudes (particularly those towards women) which are a relevant to today. It’s a scary setting and unsettling thought, but a powerful and compelling read.

Author: Margaret Atwood

First published: 1985

Zone One

Written by Colson Whitehead as described by The Times as “ a dark futuristic satire laced with fiendish humour”, Zone One is one of those books that works on that old adage: good things come to those who wait. If I’m honest, the good that came with my perseverance with this novel wasn’t really worth the wait as far as I’m concerned, but then again my enjoyment of this book might just have been tarnished by the fact that I had to read it for uni. You know, you somehow naturally have an instance aversion to books that you have to read… although that wasn’t the case with the last of the compulsory books: Never Let Me Go.  

Anyway, Zone One proves to be a surprisingly intricate and almost poetic zombie apocalypse novel, if you can imagine such a thing. 

The worst of the pandemic plague that turns the living into the living dead has past and Manhattan is being resettled, becoming Zone One. Armed forces made up of civilian survivors uninfected with the plague roam the streets clearing out the remaining infected ‘stragglers’. Mark Spitz is a member of one of these sweeper units, partaking in the mundane mission of eradicating malfunctioning zombies whilst simultaneously combating the rigours of Post-Apocalyptic Stress Disorder and attempting to come to terms with this new world. Just when it seems that the surviving shreds of humanity have beaten the plague, things start to go apocalyptically wrong… 

Maybe I didn’t read this closely enough, or maybe I read it all in the wrong inflection. Whatever the reason, I just found that absolutely nothing happens for 260 pages! Perhaps this is a cheap shot on my part (in all likeliness it probably is), but believe me I don’t wish to dissuade people from reading this. Let me just say that this book is obviously not for everyone. The genre and the content alone dictate a certain acquired taste, but this is not to say that Zone One is not without its charm. There are many interesting little facets that make up this book: the central character of Mark Spitz for a start. 

The book is written in the third person register, which is obviously indicating that an omniscient being perceives the events from an external vantage point. However, the modern language and the short sentence structure intermingled with these bouts of surprising ‘poetic’ language and description make the book starkly intimate with the central character. The paradox of this is the fact that he’s always referred to as ‘Mark Spitz’ for the book’s entire duration and for all the intimate stories of his experiences and thoughts regarding the current state of the world, we actually learn very little about him in terms of get-to-know-you formalities. We know that Mark Spitz is not his actual name. It takes a long time for the author to explain the whole nickname to us. We’re kept in the dark about his music likes, his physical appearance, and all that sort of stuff. It reminds me of the heroine in Rebecca, whose name we never learn. 

I also found it particularly fascinating how the readers get this intimate relationship with Mark Spitz, but his friends and co-workers don’t. The short sentence structure and the brusqueness with which most dialogue is spoken smacks of this nonchalance and there’s a distinct lack of any emotion between characters. As I mentioned before, the book is intermittently splattered with bouts of poetic language when readers get to explore the inner folds of Mark Spitz’s mind, but there are also some subtle and (I thought) quite entertaining bouts of popular culture that bleed into the mixture: Monty Python and the Holy Grail for example (“bring out your dead!”). All this is to say that Zone One is worth reading, particularly if you’re partial to the genre. 

Filled with action, violence, comedy, and gore, it’s a different and strangely intimate zombie apocalypse novel that harbours a lot of layers for the reader to sift through. Almost like the folds of a human brain I suppose…

Never Let Me Go

Made into a film within the last few years starring Keira Knightly, Andrew Garfield, and Carey Mulligan, Kazuo Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go is a beautifully crafted piece of literature that explores the darker terrain of love, friendship, memory, and human fragility whilst simultaneously tackling a difficult theme of the inhuman and what makes an ‘Other’ a ‘Same’. 

Quite a few of Ishiguro’s works make it into The Book, this one not amongst them, but being the first book of his that I’ve read, I now cannot wait to go out and get a few more for my library. Never Let Me Go is simple, intimate, and although it deals with some darker and some would argue, rather disturbing themes, there’s a strong and warm heart beating deep within this novel’s pages and I absolutely adored it from start to finish. 

Kathy, a devoted and particularly successful Carer reminisces about her childhood, growing up in the seemingly idyllic boarding school Hailsham, her adolescence in the countryside after leaving Hailsham and living with friends in the Cottages, and finally her rekindling and revitalising lost friendships during her years as an adult and Carer. 

From the blurb I’ve given there, it doesn’t really sound like anything special does it? But the brilliance and beauty behind this novel becomes apparent when the reader is made aware that Kathy and all her friends at Hailsham are not like other humans. Modelled off real people, Kathy and the Hailsham students are clones; brought into the world and reared for the purpose of donating their vital organs to cure incurable human diseases. When we come to realise this cold fact, we’d expect the story to suddenly take a darker turn for the worst, but the way in which it’s written and the fact that the seemingly ‘inhuman’ narrator is regaling us with memories and anecdotes that could have come from any of our childhoods helps to convey the drama of the students trying to come to terms with their existence as well as takes away a lot of the melancholy and darker drama that can so naturally threaten to engulf the story. 

Written in the first person register, Never Let Me Go is narrated by Kathy and essentially made up of experiences and anecdotes and how she looks back on them and what she makes of them over time. The first person register guarantees this fantastic intimacy between the reader and Kathy and the fact that the language is quite genuine and down-to-earth, it makes you feel as though you’re actually in a café or somewhere really having this discussion with a long-lost friend. Right from the off you’re welcomed into Kathy’s world with wide open arms and Kathy embraces you, too happy to tell you her memories, her experiences, and reminisce with you. This feeling stays with you for the book’s entire duration; the atmosphere never falters for a second, you’re always right there with Kathy, Ruth, Tommy, all of them. You’re at Hailsham by the pond, you’re in the boiler hut at the Cottages, and you’re having biscuits and mineral water with Kathy and Ruth discussing the old days. This here is the book’s power and beauty; I believe that it takes a very gifted writer to take a relatively grim or melancholy topic and write about it in a way that filters out all that regret, horror, drama, and lamentation that so closely follows. Suzanne Collins somehow managed to do it in The Hunger Games and now Ishiguro, a wondrous literary talent. 

Filled with friendship, drama, love, identity discovery, and nostalgia, Never Let Me Go is a wondrous piece of literature that is both easy to read and wholeheartedly engaging. I absolutely adored it!

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?

Written by Phillip K. Dick and the inspiration behind the movie Blade Runner, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? is a subtle, some would argue mundane, science fiction novel that fails to thrill a reader, yet inspires them to delve deeper into the mist that shrouds the idea of what it means to be ‘human’. I personally failed to become enthralled in this book, but the ideas that it expressed appealed to me and I found certain bouts of pleasure in indulging in some deep thinking regarding the questions of ‘humanity’ put forward by Dick. I think the fact that I had to read this for uni may have had a somewhat dampening effect on my reception of it, but ultimately I just found this book easy to read, but hard if not altogether impossible to become enrapt in. 

War has left Earth devastated: a barren wasteland, mostly abandoned, and clouded over by a sheen of radioactive dust that slowly brings about the inhabitant’s extinction. Here, bounty hunter Rick Deckard tracks down and ‘retires’ the runaway androids that flee from servitude on Mars. When he’s not ‘retiring’ androids, Rick dreams of one day owning a real animal and gaining the social status and prestige that goes along with it. He gets his chance when he’s given an assignment to track down 6 new Nexus-6 androids and ‘retire’ them for a huge reward. Although remarkably skilled in his trade, Rick’s assignment soon takes a turn when he discovers ‘human’ traits in his prey and he begins to empathise with them, which threatens to turn the hunter into the hunted. 

Although the brunt of the book is devoted to Rick Deckard’s story, it’s actually made up of two tales that run parallel with one another before finally entwining at the climax. Simultaneously as Rick Deckard hunts down the androids, an alienated human whose mind has been affected by the dust lowering his IQ and turning him into a “chickenhead” named John Isidore meets and befriends three androids who become the last on Deckard’s hit list. The fusion of these two separate stories; one where androids are seen as lower than animals, inhuman, and without rights, and the other where the underprivileged human counts them as friends, allies, and equals help to highlight the ideas put forward by Dick about what is ‘human’, what it means to be ‘human’, and all that jazz. In that way, the way in which these clever and philosophic ideas are expressed, Do Androids Dream? is a very clever and thought-provoking read. Worth it at any rate. 

My downside with this book is that it has these bouts of potential emotional drama and thrilling action, but because the book is written so blandly and so simply, these emotions aren’t aroused in the reader. I couldn’t find myself getting excited or attached to the characters, the situations, indeed the entire book in general; I was just reading it, passively and unresponsively. I don’t know about you, but when I read a book I like it to both inspire thoughts and inspire emotions within me, and unfortunately Dick’s efforts only resulted in success in one field. 

Filled with science fiction, action, romance, sex, real animals, drama, and engaging philosophical questions, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep is a clever, original, and differently iconic book. Although I could not get really rapt in it, I will still happily agree that it’s worth reading and it deserves its place in The Book. But the only reason it’s in my library is because I had to purchase it for uni. 

1984

Hailed as George Orwell’s most iconic literary masterpiece, his magnum opus, his tour de force, etc… 1984 is an astonishing and beautifully crafted political thriller that warns readers of the dangers of oppressive authorities, totalitarian societies, and how the struggle and desire for power, adopted as a soul driving force, can lead to the inevitable ruin of humanity. Drenched in drama, hope, and horror, this book has provided building blocks that act as the foundation for various other pieces of popular culture e.g. the show Big Brother and the psychological horror found in Terry Gilliam’s Brazil. Funnily enough, as this book was first published in 1949, it holds more relevance to today’s society and will probably proceed to accumulate more and more as the world gets older. It’s a bit scary. 

Winston Smith works in the Ministry of Truth in London, chief city of Airstrip One, Oceania: a world that is governed by the Party and ruled by Big Brother. The face of Big Brother watches him from every poster, his every move at work and at home is monitored by telescreens, and the Thought Police uncover and administer justice on every little act of betrayal. Although seeming to conform to the Party, Winston hates it: he hates Big Brother and he hates the world in which he lives in where the past is alterable, a person can be vaporised completely out of existence, children are taught to monitor their parents for signs of betrayal, and above all there is nowhere to hide. As Winston’s questioning and hatred of the Party begin to grow stronger, he illegally purchases a diary in which to write his thoughts. After this act of betrayal, he finds love with a woman named Julia, another on-the-surface conformist who rebels against the Party by committing the smallest acts of betrayal. The two are quickly drawn to deeper conspiracy: joining the underground Brotherhood that determines to topple the Party and return to politics as they were before the Rebellion. But Big Brother does not tolerate dissent, even in the mind, and for people like Winston and Julia with original thoughts, they created the horrifying Room 101. 

There are so many brilliant ideas about life, politics, the mind, and everything in this book! Orwell takes the totalitarian society a frightening step further by introducing the ideas that originality and humanity is oppressed definitely through the restructuring and brutal simplifying of language, the eradication of the sexual intercourse urge, and the abolishment of the compassion and relationships between children and parents, man and woman, and friends. 

As well as being a frightening political thriller on the surface, 1984 has this subtle psychological thriller plotline running parallel as well as a very original and inspiring love story that provides the reader with the hope they need to get them through the rest of the book. The story of Winston and Julia and the hope that there will be a rebellion and they will make it together is what compels the reader to keep turning the pages. 

What is particularly engaging and ultimately fascinating about this book is the foundation on which it’s built. Orwell, in establishing the political and behavioural environment of the story employs Michel Foucault’s theory of Panopticism, based on Jeremy Bentham’s 1787 architectural prison design. For those who don’t know, the prison or Panopticon was designed a bit like an amphitheatre, with closed, individual cells, and a guard tower bang in the middle so as to see all the inmates. Foucault’s power theory regarding this design was that the inmates’ behaviour was affected positively: because they never knew when they were being watched and could not see or converse with other inmates, they were well behaved from dusk to dawn. Orwell employs that theory of Panopticism: the self-policing of humans, through the advent of the constant surveillance provided by the telescreens. When it was first published, this idea that television would dominate households just a generation into the future was absolutely terrifying. Orwell’s startlingly modern ideas about technology, politics, and the human mind proceed to harbour more and more relevance and canonicity as the work and the world gets older. It’s really rather astonishing. 

Amidst the political horror, the doomed romance, and the tragic hero story, Orwell treats readers to a healthy dose of dark humour and irony in the form of the four Ministries that govern the world as well as the contradicting slogans that are consistently reverted back to throughout. The Ministry of Peace perpetuates war, the Ministry of Plenty creates starvation, the Ministry of Truth is responsible for the fabrication and alteration of historical documents, and the Ministry of Love is where traitors are taken to be tortured, broken, and vaporised. 

Filled with violence, drama, politics, oppression, history, romance, and horror, 1984 is an iconic piece of literature that just exudes brilliance and cannot be missed out on. It’s one of the most celebrated politically charged thrillers in existence and I highly recommend that you read it. 

WAR IS PEACE 

FREEDOM IS SLAVERY 

IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH

Animal Farm

Written by George Orwell, Animal Farm is by the far the cleverest little piece of satiric fairytale that I’ve had the pleasure of reading. An immaculately easy read that can literally be consumed in a day, this book is fantastic and loveable from the very first chapter, indeed the very first page! 

An old white pig named Major tells his farm animal friends of a dream that he’s had of a Manor Farm and later an England that is rid of the mastery of man and all animals are free and equal through a rebellion. When the drunken and lazy farmer Jones forgets to feed his livestock, the animals rise against him and Major’s prophesised rebellion comes true with Manor Farm being taken over by the animals and renamed ‘Animal Farm’. Under the guidance of the pigs Napoleon and Snowball, the animals work the farm as well as any human, but soon Major’s ideals of the rebellion are corrupted and forgotten and something strange and unexpected starts to happen… 

The story of the animals that take over the farm and are then betrayed by their ‘leaders’ has become recognised as a frank but brutal myth of freedom for the post-WWII generation, but it was book’s purpose was to destroy another myth: that the Soviet Union was a ‘socialist’ state. As a result of the barefaced political ideas communicated in the book, Orwell had great difficulty in getting it published originally and of course it was banned in Soviet bloc countries, but somehow clandestinely managed to circulate. Orwell based Animal Farm on his own experience in the Spanish Civil War in which the left-wing militia for which he fought was eliminated for not being communist. The book is most famously recognised as a fairytale depiction of the Russian Revolution and creation of the Soviet Union with political figures being caricatured and represented by the animals: the old pig Major represents Karl Marx, Boxer the carthorse who is worked to death is the Soviet people, Snowball the pig later exiled is Trotsky, and Napoleon who gains control of the farm is Stalin. 

Animal Farm is a fantastic, ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC masterpiece that is balanced superbly throughout with irony, satire, drama, and horror. It very openly depicts the corrupting influence of power and indeed misinterpretation of statements, beliefs, and ideals or how such things can be twisted into something else entirely. At the same time as being a very dramatic and actually rather an emotional book, its simple writing and third person register as well as the fairytale story of talking animals make it a book that can be enjoyed and understood by a wider audience free of generational divides and the moral of the story will always win out. 

Filled with action, rebellion, drama, violence, and wonderfully dark comedy, Animal Farm is by far one of my favourite books right now, I honestly cannot believe it’s taken me this long to read it considering that I loved studying about Russia and the Revolution in high school so many years ago. IT’S ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT!

"All animals are equal. But some animals are more equal than others."

The Hunger Games: Mockingjay

The final, climactic, instalment in Suzanne Collins’ Hunger Games trilogy, Mockingjay is a real clincher: filled with action, drenched in dramas of all kinds, and so thought-provoking it almost hurts. 

Katniss Everdeen has survived the Hunger Games twice, but her greatest game move is yet to come. A revolution is imminent and it seems that everyone around her has had some hand in its creation and progress… everyone except Katniss. And yet she must play a most vital role when the time comes; she must become the mockingjay, the symbol of the rebellion, no matter the personal cost. 

I’m still blank, stunned, struck dumb by this book. I’m not sure whether I really liked it or not. This final, climactic book is where the stories ceased to be the simplistic acts of love and defiance peppered with conspiracy and political turmoil that the first two books were and become something else entirely. 

Mockingjay seemed to be heading in another direction completely. I found it hard to get into at first. It didn’t grab me as the previous books had done; it seemed shaky and dazed which, when you think about it, actually is quite reflective of the mindset of the heroine. So I suppose that can be classed as something positive really. For the better duration of the book, it’s a war story: the first half is devoted to planning the war and then the second half is devoted to fighting. 

But it’s the final two to three chapters that really stunned me. The penultimate climactic twist of the plot is something completely unforeseen and the dramas that it gives way to are some that are quite unnerving. Still written in the first person register from the point of view of Katniss, Mockingjay is without a doubt the most thought provoking of the three books, sending the mind reeling with questions and opinions of the fragility and hostile nature of humankind, primal, and evolved. It was powerful, shocking, and sad. 

Filled with action, bloodshed, violence, warfare, drama, and inner battles, Mockinjay is a had-hitting way to close the Hunger Games trilogy. If it doesn’t inspire love or dismay for the books, it will definitely get you to start thinking. 

The Hunger Games: Catching Fire

The second book in Suzanne Collins’ Hunger Games trilogy, Catching Fire is a fantastic read, equally as rollicking, shocking, thrilling, and brilliant as its predecessor. 

Katniss Everdees survived the Hunger Games, but at a terrible cost. Other districts have been uprising against the Capitol and President Snow has sited Katniss with her trick with the berries at the closing of the Games, as the cause. Now, as all of Panem watches Katniss and Peeta on their Victor’s Tour, the stakes a higher than ever and one false move will bring consequences more dangerous, brutal, and horrible than they could ever have imagined. 

In one way, I found Catching Fire to be even better than the first book because, even though it is still written in a very simple and frank way, the darkness and drama of the story is so strong that it cannot help but shine through. Collins’ addition of elements of conspiracy, politics, and rebellion; generally making the entire story much bigger than initially anticipated, proves to be the real hook of this story. 

One thing that I did notice, and it does sort of contradict my beef about the books being too simply written to convey the darkness and drama that they hold, it that Collins’ simple writing is actually quite effective in setting the mind going as well as the reader working themselves into an excited frenzy by forming characters’ and the general story’s journey themselves. To explain, a simple sentence such as “they’ve been using the same footage for as long as anyone can remember” instantly sets the reader’s mind alive with electric ideas about conspiracy, underground communities, and a whole lot of other well-kept secrets. When you look at this from a film angle, you could even go as far as to say that Collin’s achieves in The Hunger Games what Hitchcock achieved in Rear Window: successfully freaking and exciting the reader by letting them do most of the work. Needless to say, the simpleness of the writing now no longer bothers me because it really does do its job. 

Filled with more action, politics, rebellion, romance complications, violence, and even a bit of science, Catching Fire is the fantastic second instalment in the Hunger Games trilogy and, at the moment, I think it’s my favourite book of the three. Everything is bigger, more complicated, and it’s here where the series takes on a more rooted genre form, turning them into wonderful fantasy fiction thrillers. ABSOLUTELY FANTASTIC!

The Hunger Games

Written by Suzanne Collins and having been made into a blockbuster movie, The Hunger Games is a compelling and wholly fantastic book that poses many questions and opinions about the nature of human politics, general smarts, love, and primal human nature. Written very simply as it’s a book for young adults, I found The Hunger Games to be just marvellous and I absolutely powered my way through it, completing it in intermittent bouts of reading over the course of four days! See, it’s a really compelling book like Harry Potter. 

In the primitive remains of what used to be North America has risen the country of Panem: a country divided into districts and that was once torn by rebellion and war against the Capitol. As punishment for districts’ uprising, the Capitol decreed that every year each district must offer up one boy and one girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen to be taken into the custody of the Capitol and then transferred to a public arena where they will fight to the death until there is only one left standing. This annual, televised event is called The Hunger Games. When sixteen year-old Katniss Everdeen’s little sister Primrose is chosen to compete, she volunteers to take her place. At first Katniss sees the Games as her death sentence, but then again she comes from a very poor district and her skills in archery and as a hunter added to her innate willpower for survival might just be enough to get her through this competition where winning will make you famous and losing means certain death. 

I will admit that I saw the movie before reading the book, however I don’t think that this minor flaw has really influenced by opinion of the book. 

The general concept of The Hunger Games is very dark, it’s very dark, but as the book is written for a budding and adolescent audience, the violence, desperation, and general harshness of the story cannot be really conceived. Looking at it in this way, it reads in a similar way to the Harry Potter series: it’s exciting and rollicking and you can’t put it down, but it’s really hard to imagine the rawness and horror of the violence that takes place. 

The book is written in the first person register, being from the point of view of Katniss, our heroine and a very admirable heroine to come out of 21^st century literature. I have to applaud Collins on her ability to fairly successfully convey the basic inner workings of this character: her stoic sense of detachment, duty, determination, and level-headedness. Using simple language and short sentences as well as questions directed to herself, the first person register worked quite well with this book, causing the reader to identify, if ever so slightly, with whatever emotions spring up during whatever scenarios. 

Really, at the end of the day, my one and only beef with this book is that it’s written too simply for the darkness and brutality of the concept to be appreciated. I still loved it though. 

Filled with action, violence, mild gore, determination, strategy, intellect, politics, love, and comedy, The Hunger Games is a fantastic book, very easy to read, and one that you’ll simply power through. I also love too the fact that it’s simply structured, divided into three parts with each chapter ending on a bit of a cliffhanger. I ABSOLUTELY LOVED IT and can’t wait to start the next!  

A Clockwork Orange

Written by Anthony Burgess and made into an iconic film by Stanley Kubrick starring Malcolm MacDowell, A Clockwork Orange is a book that is both compelling and repulsive. It is also one of the few books where I think its ok, even a good idea, to watch the movie first. Filled with political, youth oriented, conformist, and “modern-age” themes, A Clockwork Orange is a wonderful book, a bit tricky to get into at first, but once hooked, you cannot put it down. 

Teenage Alex lives a life at night, leading his gang of lads around and committing acts of robbery, rape, drug taking, and ultra-violence. But one night a routine robbery goes amiss as Alex is set up and betrayed by his mates and he ends up getting caught and thrown into the city’s overcrowded prison. After two years, Alex is plucked from the criminal masses to be a subject of a new reform treatment: a treatment that involves brainwashing poor Alex causing him to feel physically sick when contemplating any act of wrongdoing. Soon after being released as a reformed criminal, Alex finds his new life of good completely unbearable, even more so as society continues to punish him for his past behaviour. 

The book is very poignant and forceful and very disturbing. It’s based on a Russian gang of teenage thugs that Burgess encountered in St. Petersburg and takes some very strong jabs at popular culture, the rise of conformism, and the psychological conditioning of the 1960s, something that Burgess found quite objectionable. So there are some very strong and bluntly put political themes that are presented in the book as well as a few strong jabs at the generational divide. Set in a dystopian future, though not too distant from the 1960s, we see a lot of the young victimising the old and then, later on, visa versa. The phrase “victim of the modern age” comes into play quite a bit and it really sets the old brain whirring with thoughts as to all meanings that phrase could harbour. 

I mentioned before that A Clockwork Orange is a book that can be read after seeing the movie first. Normally, I am quite against this, but Kubrick’s film was such an apt adaptation that gave its audience, not only the visual gist of what was going on, but also a taste of the language and dialogue used in the book. The book is written in the first person, from the point of view of young Alex, reflecting on his little adventure. The language is a combination of rhyming and Russian slang and it can be rather hard to get the gist of what’s actually happening if you have not seen the film. You’ll find that, for a time, you’ll be playing a fair bit of catch-up. It’s very brutal, conversational, reflective, and frank; nothing long-winded or grandiose, but very much as though Alex himself were actually right there telling us his story over a cup of chai. I absolutely loved the writing of this book.

 Filled with violence, crime, brainwashing, drugs, betrayal, and reflection, A Clockwork Orange is a wholly wonderful book and, once acquainted with the style of writing, a very easy and compelling read. The language is without a doubt my favourite part of it: you just don’t see a mixture of Russian slang and Shakespearean prose side by side anymore. And using word such as “horrorshow” instead of “nice”, well I’m going to adopt that and use it everyday! I LOVED THIS BOOK!