Classic noir cinema was a staple in my house growing up \u2014 I mean, my first celebrity crush was on The Thin Man<\/em><\/a> series co-star, Myrna Loy<\/a> \u2014 so any story from the days when mugs were mooks and gals were dames holds sway over my heart. But The Thin Man<\/em>, like the rest of the media made at that time, only showed a very narrow, very male, very white view of life. Christopher Moore\u2019s latest novel, Razzmatazz<\/em><\/a>,<\/em> adds some much needed color to the otherwise black-and-white world of noir.<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n Razzmatazz<\/em> is the second title for Moore\u2019s satirical murder mystery series, following 2019\u2019s Noir<\/em><\/a>. In this latest installment, we\u2019re returned to Post-WWII San Francisco as bartender Sammy \u201cTwo Toes\u201d Tiffin and his cadre of misfit friends hustle to survive in Fog City. Now, helping disappear your best friend\u2019s girlfriend\u2019s abusive husband is one thing but, as the team soon learns, stealing back a possibly magical, definitely priceless, heirloom from the local Tong is another entirely \u2014 and that\u2019s before some madman starts murdering the city\u2019s drag kings.<\/p>\n Razzmatazz<\/em> is a smart and just a bit snarky adventure mystery featuring a diverse and developed cast of characters, fast-paced action that seamlessly transitions between the varying viewpoints of said ensemble and doesn\u2019t get bogged down in world building. At around 350 pages apiece, Noir<\/em> and Razzmatazz<\/em> will each provide a solid weekend\u2019s entertainment and, if you\u2019re still looking for more Moore after that, check out 2020\u2019s Shakespeare for Squirrels<\/em><\/a>. \u2013 Andrew Tarantola, Senior Editor<\/em><\/p>\n I always look forward to new Blake Crouch releases because his writing is vivid and fast-paced, so much so that I can see the movie version playing out in my head as I devour his latest title in just a couple of days. This year\u2019s Upgrade<\/em><\/a> was no exception \u2013 we\u2019re in a world in which gene editing is real yet highly regulated, and we follow Logan Ramsay, a member of the Gene Protection Agency as he tries to apprehend those who may be involved in nefarious gene-editing activities.<\/p>\n But after a violent encounter on a mission, Logan starts to feel less and less like himself and more like a better<\/em> version of himself. He can read faster, he\u2019s physically stronger and he needs less sleep. He soon finds out his genome has been hacked, and he also discovers he\u2019s part of a much larger plan that could change humanity as he knows it. As he works to stop this plan from being executed, he\u2019s forced to confront some of the darkest parts of his past and the tarnished family legacy he\u2019s been working so hard to escape.<\/p>\n Crouch excels at putting readers into his protagonist\u2019s shoes, forcing them to feel the same anxiety, dread and confusion inflicting his main characters. But to think that produces an overall unpleasant reading experience would be incorrect: Upgrade<\/em> is an intriguing thrill ride that moves at break-neck speed, while posing a lot of questions about humanity as a whole. \u2013 Valentina Palladino, Senior Commerce Editor<\/em><\/p>\n On its face, Notes on an Execution<\/em><\/a> may seem like a typical examination of a serial killer. The novel begins with Ansel Packer counting down his last 12 hours before he\u2019s to be executed for killing many women. But Danya Kukafka is much less interested in this murderer as she is in telling the stories of three women who were all affected by Ansel in some way. We follow Lavender, Ansel\u2019s mother, as a lost teenager pushed to the brink as she struggles to protect her children and herself; Hazel, Ansel\u2019s sister-in-law who watches her twin lose herself in this toxic relationship; and Saffy, the lead investigator on Ansel\u2019s case with more hidden trauma than you might expect buried just under the surface. But these women aren\u2019t victims with a capital V. Instead, they work to flip the serial-killer narrative on its head by focusing our attention on the fact that, despite everything, they survived. Notes on an Execution<\/em> is a dark, engaging story with lovely prose and a surprisingly, underlying element of hope at the end of it all. \u2013 V.P.<\/em><\/p>\n Our Missing Hearts<\/em><\/a>,<\/em> in the grand tradition of near-future dystopian fiction like The Handmaid\u2019s Tale <\/em>or 1984<\/em>, presents a vision of our country that feels far too close for comfort. In Ng\u2019s third novel, she writes of a 12-year-old boy named Bird and his father, who live in a United States where laws enshrining America-first culture have been put in place following years of economic and social turmoil.<\/p>\n In this world, Asians have been made the scapegoat for all of America\u2019s ills; while Asian Americans are still technically free and full citizens, many of them are under the thumb of police and subject to various degrees of violence from so-called \u201creal\u201d Americans. And any parents deemed to be un-America could have their children immediately confiscated \u2013 no questions asked. As in any good dystopia, books deemed unpatriotic have also been seized and destroyed, including a book of poetry by Bird\u2019s mother, a woman who disappeared years earlier.<\/p>\n This story is simultaneously small and universal. The meat of the narrative focuses on Bird pushing to learn more about his mother and the circumstances of the world he\u2019s living in, and there are only a handful of major characters. At the same time, Ng skillfully paints a plausible picture of an America that\u2019s given in to its worst instincts. Ng has pointed out multiple times that all the atrocities being committed in Our Missing Hearts<\/em> are things that have taken place in the US or other parts of the world already \u2013 not a comforting thought.<\/p>\n But as bleak as this world is, the book is filled with moments of unexpected beauty and small triumphs. Perhaps most crucially, there\u2019s a sense that while an extremist minority currently may rule over a more sensible populace, there\u2019s a way out of the darkness. Our Missing Hearts <\/em>isn\u2019t a light story, but it\u2019s an important one, artfully told by a writer who can deftly weave together a compelling narrative with poignant social commentary. Ng may have made a big impact in popular culture with Little Fires Everywhere <\/em>(and its accompanying Hulu miniseries), but Our Missing Hearts<\/em> feels like her definitive work thus far. \u2013 Nathan Ingraham, Deputy Editor<\/em><\/p>\n Hideo Kojima is a video game designer best known for the Metal Gear <\/em>series, which popularized the stealth genre and had a plot that could charitably be described as ridiculous<\/a>. Perhaps shamefully, I am a Kojima fan. His studios\u2019 games are often in dire need of an editor and almost constantly tow the line between insight and navel-gazing. Sometimes, they\u2019ve also seemed incapable<\/a> of treating their female characters with respect. But they are always bursting with ideas, trying things with an unmistakable voice and a ceaseless, pulverizing earnestness. His post-apocalyptic delivery sim Death Stranding<\/em><\/a>\u00a0<\/em>is at once laughably on-the-nose (one hard-to-kill character is called \u201cDie-Hardman<\/a>\u201d AKA: John McClane, of course<\/a>), and one the most enchanting games I\u2019ve played in the past decade.<\/p>\n I give you this background to help explain how I ended up reading Kojima\u2019s book, The Creative Gene<\/em><\/a>, earlier this year. (It was technically published in late 2021.) Instead of telling some weirdo techno-thriller or a behind-the-scenes look at game development, though, this is a collection of previously published essays about the books, movies and other cultural objects that Kojima finds essential to his being. Like his games, it can border on hokey and self-mythologizing, but it is disarmingly honest, personal and anti-cynical.<\/p>\n In many ways, the Metal Gear <\/em>games are about identity \u2013 who we are and how we got there. That\u2019s more or less what Kojima gets at here; for about 250 pages, he raves about things he likes with a tangible verve, not to recommend them to consumers, but to explore how they\u2019ve shaped his experience. More than a memoir, though, The Creative Gene <\/em>is an appreciation of how art of all stripes can spark inspiration in a recyclable process.<\/p>\n The prose is nothing extraordinary, and there are certainly more essential subjects out there. While you don\u2019t need to be a gamer to get something out of this, having a familiarity with Kojima\u2019s work doesn\u2019t hurt. Still, The Creative Gene<\/em>\u2019s sincerity and enthusiasm are easy to appreciate in a time of widespread detachment. \u2013 Jeff Dunn, Senior Commerce Writer<\/em><\/p>\n Emily St. John Mandel delivered one of the essential reads of the pandemic when she published The Glass Hotel <\/em>in March 2020. It was no small feat given she previously wrote the award-winning Station Eleven<\/em><\/a>, a novel that\u2019s set partly after a world-ending flu. Given that there was a five-year gap between Station Eleven <\/em>and Glass Hotel<\/em>, I didn\u2019t dare hope one of my favorite authors would release a new novel so soon, and that it would be as good as her previous works. Thankfully, Sea of Tranquility<\/em><\/a>\u00a0<\/em>does not disappoint.<\/p>\n It shares many of the same strengths as Mandel\u2019s past novels, including a brilliant sense of atmosphere and prose that rewards close reading. Sea of Tranquility <\/em>is also in conversation with Station Eleven<\/em> and The Glass Hotel<\/em> in a way that will delight fans. That\u2019s not to say you need to have read those books to enjoy her latest, but it may make you look at them (and Mandel\u2019s career) in a new light. Add to that themes that will resonate with anyone who has lived through the past two years and you have one of the best books of 2022. \u2013 Igor Bonifacic, Weekend Editor<\/em><\/p>\n
We may not have had quite as much unfettered reading time as we did in the lockdown days of the COVID pandemic, but Engadget\u2019s editors have still managed to pick out, peruse and ponder a broad variety of this year\u2019s … Continue reading Upgrade<\/em> by Blake Crouch<\/h2>\n
Notes on an Execution<\/em> by Danya Kukafka<\/h2>\n
Our Missing Hearts<\/em> by Celeste Ng<\/h2>\n
The Creative Gene by Hideo Kojima<\/h2>\n
Sea of Tranquility by Emily St. John Mandel<\/h2>\n
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\nSource: Engadget – What we bought: Our favorite books of 2022<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"