Reviews and Comments

Planet is the first of a 5-volume curated collection of essays and poems about kinship released by the Centre for Humans and Nature. As with many collections, it features a variety of writing, some strong and some not. The first volume is on "planet" and combines thoughts on this pale blue dot from thinkers, writers, artists, poets and philosophers.

Overall, the writing is of a very high standard and the collection is well presented. Standout essays include Andrew S. Yang's Kinshape, which is a conversetion with stardust as kin, via his mother. Co-editor Robin Wall Kimmerer's part-speculative fiction about humans being invited back into the family by other creatures that share this space is thoughtful and wonderful. Ceridwen Dovey's essay on giving rights to the moon raises fascinating questions and is written with a beautiful sense of care. However some of the essays fail to land, particularly the "celebrity" contribution of David Abram, which seems completely out of place and is very clumsy in its use of language. The poetry is also a mixed bag, with a few great pieces (Brenda Cardénas' piece on perspectives of life is tefrific).

There is a slant toward US-based voices in this first volume, which is a pity because it misses an opportunity to broaden the discourse. Despite these issues, the book is a great collection. And the design of the volumes is also worth noting as they are all beautiful objects, well designed and nicely packaged.

Han Kang's Human Acts is a story of grief from genocide that spans over thirty years. Ostensibly, it is a series of short stories that centre on the Guangju Uprising in South Korea in 1980, and its aftermath. But within this frame, Kang focuses the lens on one protagonist, Dong Ho, who is loosely or closely connected with the characters in the other chapters. She uses Dong Ho to connect the namelessness of a massacre with a very real (albeit fictional) child.

The storytelling as presented in the translation is excellent, visceral, beautiful and heartbreaking. Each character is fleshed out by Kang's brilliant ability to make words into humans. And in the end, this makes the book not only a lament but a powerful force. The repeat references to bodies (sweat, pain, "sacks of meat") are deeply evocative, and the thinly veiled references to US involvement in the mistreatment of Korean textile workers while propping up a dictatorship are brave even today. The final result is a masterpiece of literature that somehow manifests the grief of many people simultaneously.

Atlas of AI manages to dig deep into the systems and cost of Artificial Intelligence without ever overcomplicating the ideas for a general reader. Using contemporary feminist philosophy, Crawford compares extraction of minerals to extraction of data to extraction of labour, and concludes that a revised understanding of technology is needed.

One of the main arguments, which is very well developed throughout, places AI research by big tech companies in line with much eugenic and colonial thought systems, highlighting how they are embedding outdated and bigoted ideas in the underlying bias of supposedly neutral systems. Similarly, the colonial patterns of extractive human labour that are used to train such systems, and that provide the materials needed to operate them, are overlooked by most companies who develop or sell these systems.

A couple of small complaints: the last couple of chapters become a little journalistic and US-centric, and while Crawford hits out at many big tech companies, she seems reluctant to criticise her own employer, Microsoft (this may be contractual, but is pronounced). But these are minor issues in a book that covers more ground than most, presenting complex and long-considered research.

This book does essentially exactly what its title promises: It maps a litany of different methods of building by creatures, from microscopic bacteria to primates to termites to beavers to crows. As an overview of the methods employed, it is thorough and enjoyable, if a little dry.

An easy complaint with the book is that, while it regularly advises against human-centric thinking (such as comparing the building methods of animals to that of humans), often in the same paragraph, Hansell uses humanist ideas to confirm his own biases about nonhuman construction. He creates comparisons between primate 'intelligence' and human, but never acknowledges other possible forms of intelligence. This comes to a fore in a chapter on the use of tools, where there is little quarter given to experimental or non-western theories on non-human behaviours, instead insisting on traditional western thought about how brain size affects behaviour. This positioning is a small bugbear, however, in a book that is otherwise an adequate, broad and interesting dive into the many homes that are built by the countless critters that share this planet with us.

A tale of people livong in a time of massive transition as Kenya gains 'Uhuru', independence from the British Empire. Ngugi wa Thiong'o wrote this book only a short time after Kenyan independence, which is amazing because it carries so much sympathy and distance that it could have been written today. Added to this, the characters and storytelling is also very modern and seems more like an ethereal novel of the early 2000s. The complexity of violence both in imperialism and in its removal is bittersweet, touching and enriching.

The characters and dialogue is brilliantly sharp, and the motivations and actions both realistic and dreamlike, but what is most striking is the empathy that Ngugi wa Thiong'o manifests for all parties, even those who commit atrocious deeds. This empathy is something that many struggle with even 100 years on from bitter periods of imperial rule. The only flaw in the book is in the occasional sections where it bluntly outlines the history of the day, sections that feel more like a bad editorial decision to explain the events to a western audience. Otherwise this is touchingly flawless.

Marie Darrieussecq's debut novel is a metamorphosis story that pulls in themes of sexism, racism, and political extremism, all painted with a heavy brush. The story is painful but playful, told by a narrator who has transformed into a pig after a series of harrowing life events where her body is abused constantly, mostly by men.

The story is absurd but engaging enough to entertain, even if at times it feels a little like you are being told the same joke again and again. The cleverness is spoiled at times by the obviousness of the plot or the clear influences of other books that come through too strongly. While some of the themes are obvious (the abuse of the female body for money, for example), other moments such as the strange ending or the fictional political events are a little too muddled. But even so, as a story and an unusual, wry contemporary myth, this book is worth a read.